Are you sure this was a good idea?
by Diresquirrel
Summary: Stupid Magical Contracts!  Harry and Hermione discover that magic doesn't have the same kind of sense of humor that they are used to.  Also, Hermione accidentally becomes a Big Bad.  Warning:  'Tis a silly fic.
1. Stupid Magical Contract

**Stupid Magical Contract!**

**SpaceMary:** hey  
**DireSquirrel:** hey, what's up?  
**SpaceMary:** Would u p  
**DireSquirrel:** FINE I'LL WRITE A ROMANCE FIC!  
**SpaceMary:** great! but I was just hoping u could tell me what we missed in class

Yep, I swore I'd never do it because it would suck. And I'm talking about romance, the building of relationships, not the equivalent of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'me fic. (Though I lack the ability to write those too). SpaceMary had been pestering me for a while now to write one, and this is the start.

And if it does suck, tell me that. If it doesn't, well, tell me that too. You never know, I might actually be okay at this.

The humor in this is going to be less insane than I have done before. I hope people like it.

Oh, and you can blame JKR and Joss for this, because the characters and settings are their brain children, not mine. Just so you know.

* * *

It also follows all the rules in this challenge: www **DOT **tthfanfic **DOT **org **SLASH **Challenge-3935

Pairings: Hermione/Harry, Dawn/Xander, and more for later.

Thanks be to Greywizard for all the help.

* * *

_**"Love isn't a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now." **_  
— **Fred Rogers (The World According to Mister Rogers)**

* * *

"You know, Harry," Sirius wrote in his letter, "there is a stipulation in the Blood Wards contracts that allows someone to stay with their betrothed instead of blood family…"

Harry Potter, only thirteen years old, jumped up from his chair in the Great Hall and whooped for joy, waving the letter over his head like a champion quidditch trophy. He looked up and flashed a playful grin at his best friends. Everyone was looking at him, but for once, he didn't care.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said in a playful, joking and slightly sarcastic tone. "Want to get engaged, so I don't have to go back to the Dursleys?"

"Sure, Harry," she replied in the same joking tone. "But afterwards, you have to help me in my plan to take over the world and subjugate it to my will."

"No problem, honey," Harry cackled. Together they laughed, not realizing they were both momentarily caught up in a bright white glow. They were both still giddy from rescuing his godfather and Buckbeak, so they were not the most observant at the moment.

The rest of Gryffindor started clapping, and the other houses started up. Even Slytherin joined in.

"Uh, why is everybody clapping?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Uh, guys?"

* * *

Ends up, Magic doesn't understand sarcasm or jokes.

"_What do you mean we're engaged?"_ Harry and Hermione screamed at their head of house, Minerva McGonagall, who seemed slightly smug.

"You have both entered into a magical contract, the wizarding form of a prenuptial agreement," the Transmutation professor instructed.

"But it was just a joke," Hermione protested.

"Yeah! We're too young to get married!" Harry said.

"Oh, you're not married yet," Dumbledore said with a bemused smile on his face. "You can't do that for another two years. But it is a magically binding contract."

"So, we can just break it off right?" Hermione asked. "We can just get a divorce, right? Or break it off?"

The way the staff looked at her, you'd think she had cast a mass _confundus_ spell on them all.

"What's a divorce?" asked Professor Sprout, a puzzled expression on her face.

"It's, uh, a way for people to not be married anymore," Harry explained slowly.

"Oh, we don't have anything like that," Sprout responded with a positively scandalized face. The head of Hufflepuff seemed to shiver at the very thought of something like that being possible. It was so..._un_-hufflepuff!

"Are you telling us that this is permanent?" Hermione asked slowly and quietly.

"Oh, yes," Minerva McGonagall nodded. "It is a very important part of Wizarding Society. Actually, I'm surprised young Mr. Potter here is not already in some form of engagement, although I do suspect Lily might have something to do with that. She was rather obstinate about these kinds of things."

"So there's no way to get out of this?" Harry said.

"Oh, not unless you want your magic bound and end up like a squib," Dumbledore explained. Both kids looked at him like he was a crazy person. "Oh, and this also involves your second magical contract."

"_What second magical contract?_" both Harry and Hermione asked together, completely befuddled by the news.

"Why your contract to take over the world," Dumbledore explained. "And subjugate it to Miss Granger's will, of course."

"What contract to take over the world and subjugate it to my will?" Hermione asked.

"The one you made immediately after getting engaged," Professor McGonagall explained.

"That was a joke," Hermione said. She turned to Harry. "You know that was a joke right?"

"Yeah, _I_ thought it was a joke," Harry agreed. They looked up at the teaching staff who all wore very serious faces. "Magic didn't think it was a joke, though, did it?" he asked with a worried expression on his face.

The teachers all shook their heads in solemn unison. Hermione's eyes grew about four times their usual size as a thought popped into her head.

"I just became a Big Bad," Hermione said quietly under her breath, so low that only Harry could hear it. "My parents are gonna _kill_ me."

"I'm sure Ron will stop us if we go too far," Harry said with a grin that showed more humor than he felt. However, the Weasley in question had just received the information from his friends Dean and Neville and had gone half catatonic.

"Uh, so what do we do now?" Harry asked Hermione as they walked back to the Gryffindor tower. She gritted her teeth and let her breath out slowly.

"I guess you come home with me to meet my parents."

* * *

Once the students were back on the train to go home, Pomona Sprout held out her hand. "Now, who had 'marriage by misunderstanding of pureblood laws.'" Three hands went up. "Same house?" five hands went up. "Same Year?" four hands went up. "Hermione Granger." Two hands went up. There was only one person who raised her hand every time.

"I win," Minerva McGonagall said with a slightly evil grin. The other members of the teaching staff slapped a few galleons in her hand and grumbled slightly. "You should have never bet against me."

"I had Miss Granger as a dark witch," the divination professor said.

"I'm quite sure this doesn't count," Sprout protested. "She even said it was a joke."

"There are some things that you just don't joke about," Trelawney intoned. She held out her hand for her money. "She quit my class. It was a Sign."

"No, not yet," Sprout said. She shared a look of solidarity with McGonagall. The older woman gave a succinct nod of agreement.

"How does this affect the harem bet?" asked the muggle studies professor.

"_Honestly_, now," McGonagall said, "Do you really think _Hermione Granger_ is going to let him get away with that?"

"We'll just have to wait and see," Dumbledore said with a mysterious smile. "You never know, _she _might want a harem. There are those two Weasley twins..."

Every professor looked at the headmaster like he was a complete nutter.

They were all about to leave, but Snape held out his hand in front of the door as he read the Daily Prophet. "I believe I also had 'married someone just like his mother.' Now pay up."

Grumbling, the teaching staff of Hogwarts made the Potions Master and Transfiguration professor a few galleons richer that day.


	2. Riding with Ripper, Meeting the Parents

**Riding with Ripper, Meeting the Parents**

* * *

**SpaceMary: **I like it.

...

...  
**DireSquirrel:** REally?

* * *

At King's Cross, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter stood side by side, looking like two puddles of nerves. Neither really understood that it was for slightly different reasons. Harry's mind was focused on thoughts of engagement and such, and how he was really much too young to get married – or even engaged – and yet he couldn't see any way out of it. Hermione, however, was wondering how badly her parents were going to punish her.

After what seemed like hours, an older gentleman walked up to them. He wore tweed, his glasses were well polished and clear, and he had perfect posture.

"Hello, Hermione dear, who is this?"

"Harry Potter, sir," Harry answered. He glanced at Hermione, who looked as if she were about to burst into tears or go on a rampage, but couldn't decide on which direction to go into.

"Hermione?" the older gentleman asked again. Tears seemed to win out and Hermione grabbed the man by the waist and started sobbing into his sport coat.

"I'm sorry! It was just a joke! I didn't really mean it," Hermione sobbed. "Please don't let them kill me!"

"Hermione, you need to tell me what happened," the man said, a perplexed expression on his face. She looked up at him, eyes red with fear, tears and confusion.

_"I accidentally swore to take over the world!"_

Harry let out a quiet and unobtrusive sigh of relief. He'd thought she was upset about the engagement.

"I am quite sure you did not mean such a thing," the older man said, patting her on the back. He straightened up and held out a hand to Harry. "Rupert Giles."

"Hullo, sir," Harry said, shaking the man's hand.

"You would not happen to have some insight into my dear girl's behavior," the man asked.

"She meant it as a joke. She didn't know it was a magically binding contract," Harry said.

"To conquer the world?"

"And bend it to her will," Harry clarified his fiancée's vow. "But I don't know if that's possible, or even why she's so upset about it."

"And how are you connected to this?"

"She asked me to help," Harry replied dutifully, "and I said yes, but we both thought it was a joke."

"I see…" the man said, taking his glasses off for a quick polish.

"Um, if I may ask, sir," Harry said hesitantly, "why are you taking this so seriously?"

There was a slight twinkle in his eye, while his face kept the mask of seriousness. "World domination is always a serious business."

"...Right."

The man patted Hermione warmly on the back. "Now, now, I'm sure your parents will be very proud. Now, why don't we get back to the car?"

"Okay," she said, wiping her eyes clear. "Come on, Harry."

"Why is Harry joining us?" Giles asked.

"Because he's my fiancé," she said numbly as she loaded her things into the trunk of a rather pitiful looking car. Rupert Giles immediately turned to stare at the bespectacled boy with a look of equal parts aggression and confusion.

"Uh, that part was an accident, too."

* * *

Later, as the car rolled down into greater London, Rupert Giles looked in the backseat at the two schoolchildren via the rearview.

"So, allow me to break this down," he asked slowly. "You, Mr. Potter, got a letter from your wrongfully accused, escaped convict godfather, who said that you could have blood ward protection if you stay with your fiancée. You then jokingly asked the girl I consider my granddaughter to marry you. You, Hermione dear, recognized the tone of his voice, jokingly agreed, and you both suddenly found yourselves in a magically binding marriage contract."

"Yes, sir" Harry agreed, "because Magic doesn't have a sense of humor."

"Oh, I think you'll find it does, just not one to match yours," Giles said with a slightly wistful tone.

"You forgot the part where I become the next Big Bad and Auntie has to come hunt me down," Hermione corrected.

"I'm quite sure it won't come to that," Giles said with the slightest of chuckles. He abruptly swerved to the side. "_Bloody Tourists!_"

"How exactly do we know you aren't just attempting to run away from your family?" Giles asked once the danger had passed.

"You mean, other than that's exactly what he's trying to do?" Hermione asked, having recovered from her earlier outburst of emotion.

"Er, right, quite right," he said. "I will insist that you call your relatives to inform them of the situation."

"I sent them a letter."

"Hardly enough. I insist you phone them immediately."

* * *

When they arrived at the Granger home, it was nothing like what Harry had expected. It was a tall Georgian Style building in good condition, although it looked like parts of the brickwork had been recently replaced, almost as if it suffered frequent damage. Five stories tall, it must have cost a pretty penny to live there. Rupert Giles pulled up to the front, parallel parked the poor, tired car and stepped out.

"Come along, then," he said, fiddling with his keys. He tucked them deliberately into one pocket and pulled out a large ancient style key that he pushed into the large cast-iron lock and turned. Hermione followed quickly, pulling Harry by the hand. Rupert Giles swung the door open.

"Your daughter accidentally got herself engaged to a boy and thinks she pulled an Angelus. I do believe I just won the pool," he announced loudly as he entered.

Hermione was quickly picked up by a petite blonde woman only slightly taller than her and tossed up in the air like a doll.

"Aunt Buffy, that wasn't funny when I was five. I'm fourteen now," the girl complained in a slightly punch-drunk fashion.

"What? Can't a woman be happy to see her favorite niece?" Buffy asked, setting Hermione on her hip like a small child. Hermione was not amused.

"You can put me down now," the girl said in a flat tone. Buffy ignored her.

"So what's this about you turning evil?"

"Apparently, Hermione swore a magical oath to take over the world," Giles said with a twinkle in his eye. His deadpan humor was perfect. Harry was about to say hello, but he noticed a woman that must have been Hermione's older, _very_ attractive sister. She walked right over and gave Hermione a hug.

"Now, now, Hermione, everyone knows it was your father's turn to go evil," the girl said. "He's been waiting for years." She turned and looked Harry right in the eye. "So, you must be Harry."

"Yes."

She seemed to look through him with those same brilliant eyes that Hermione had.

"We've heard about you from Hermione," the girl said.

"Nothing bad, I hope," Harry said formally.

"I do hope you're the boy she got engaged to accidentally, and not that irritating sounding Ron," the girl said.

"MUM!" Hermione screamed, turning beet red in the face. They were lucky that Harry hadn't been drinking something, because he would have had a perfect spit take.

"Mum? She's your mother?" Harry asked. "She can't be more than sixteen!"

"Yep, definitely the better choice," Hermione's mom said with a grin and Harry's face quickly matched Hermione's special coloring. The other adults chuckled. "Now, in all seriousness, yes, I am her mother. I'm Dawn Summers. Nice to meet you, Harry Potter."

"Uh, thanks," he said awkwardly. "I, uh, I thought you were Hermione's older sister."

That brought on another round of laughter and more embarrassment to Hermione, the poor girl. "Come on, Hermione's father will get the bags. Bring in your critters and we'll get you settled."

"Thanks!"

* * *

"Are you hungry?" Dawn asked him as they moved further into the house. "I just made some peanut butter and radish sandwiches if you want one."

"No, I, uh, I'll just have a glass of water, instead, thank you," he stammered. "Just curious, but how did you come up with that combination of flavors."

Dawn just shrugged. "It's good."

Beyond her, a wide-eyed Hermione was waving her hands and mouthing the word "no" in a very frantic manner.

"Water will be fine, please, or maybe a piece of fruit?" he asked. Fruit was probably a good choice, Hermione's parents being dentists and all that.

"No problem, why don't you eat it out by the pool?" she suggested, pointing toward the inner courtyard where he saw a large, ancient style pool with palm trees, lawn chairs and a few tables. The boy wandered out and sat down under a sun umbrella. He sat for a while, humming a tune he couldn't remember the name of and eating his sandwich.

A slight bit later, he noticed some movement from next to him. A taller, beautiful woman with a crown of slightly curled brunette hair stood next to him, and flashed him a smile.

"Hi, you can call me Mrs. Robinson."

And then she took off her shirt.

She wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Harry stared as if he had just caught a glimpse of Nirvana.

The tight, _**tight**_ shorts went the way of her shirt.

And then the orange and glass of water crashed to the ground as the woman dove into the pool.

Hermione ran from the kitchen at the crash, saw Harry's happy, shell-shocked look, and then glanced in the pool. "_Faith!_"

The woman in the pool just stuck her tongue out at Hermione. "Here's to you Brainy Janie!"

"_Honestly!_" Hermione grumbled. "You'd think a woman her age would have more shame!" She ran over to Harry who was still sitting still with a goofy, happy look on his face.

"I recognize that look," an unfamiliar face said. Hermione shot her father a chastising glare.

"Dad!" the girl said, giving her father a hug. Glancing back at the pool, Hermione growled. "She knew I had company!"

"And that's probably why she did it," her father nodded with a smile. "I know how to wake him up." The man leaned down, picked Harry up by the back of his shirt and dumped him in the pool, careful to take his glasses off, so they didn't get lost.

Harry came back up sputtering. "What was that for?"

Hermione gave him **The Look™.**

"Oh, right, sorry."

"Did you see that?" Dawn asked her sister. "She's only fourteen, and she's already got him trained."

"Lucky girl," Buffy said with a grin. "Think Xander's gonna threaten him?"

"Oh, not with anyone else to see," Dawn said confidently. "He and Willow like to think we don't know they do it."

"We all know if it isn't him, it'd be Willow," Giles said. "I think dealing with Xander is letting him off quite easy."

Hermione helped him clamor out of the pool sopping wet. Xander covered his mouth to hide his laughs. After he got it under control, he held out a hand. "Hi, Xander Harris-Granger. I'm Hermione's Dad."

Harry took the man's hand and looked upward into the friendly, one-eyed face. Then he remembered that Hermione's parents were dentists. The concept of a one-eyed dentist was horrifying to imagine and here was one right in front of him. Harry started to feel that lauded Gryffindor bravery start to slip away.

"Harry Potter," he said, struggling to keep from shaking. His body, not his hand. "I, er, I'm Hermione's fiancé."

"Well, not the first time there's been an unexpected marriage or engagement in this family," Xander said, giving the boy's hand a slightly harder squeeze. Harry struggled not to wince. "It's much better than the time Buffy and Spike got engaged. But of course, that was Willow's fault."

The unspoken fact that Xander Harris-Granger blamed Harry James Potter was not lost on either party.

"Uh, nice to meet you sir," Harry said through slightly gritted teeth.

"Likewise," Xander said. "Now, why don't you head in and we'll see about getting some clothes on Faith."

"Thank you!" drawled Hermione. She stamped her foot, planted her hands on her hips and gave the dark haired woman a glare that should have peeled paint. Faith smirked and decided to _s-l-o-o-o-o-w-l-y_ step out of the pool, ensuring that the light caught the water droplets falling down her lithe form _just _right. Hermione resumed her glare and tried to cover both Harry's and her father's eyes.

"Hermione," Harry said. "I couldn't see anyways; you kept my glasses."

"Oh, right," she said, taking her hands away and scampered off to get his glasses. When she was out of hearing, Xander leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"I can't believe she fell for that, and I'm her father," he said. "Her mother never would have."

"Well, the Sorting Hat did want to put me in Slytherin," Harry whispered back conspiratorially. "And my eyesight isn't _that_ bad."

Back in the sitting room, the other occupants looked on.

"Aren't you going to get back at Xander for looking at a naked Faith like that?" Buffy inquired lightly.

"No need. Look-y fine, but no touch-y," her sister stated flatly. "And he knows I've still got that 'Property of Dawn' brand you gave me for a wedding present. I keep it on the mantle in our bedroom."

"Oh dear lord!" Giles sighed with a roll of his eyes as he stood up under the guise of getting another glass of lemonade, but both women knew it was just an excuse to leave the room. The two cackled in his wake. TMI was a powerful weapon indeed.

* * *

Tell me what you think!


	3. Sleeping Habits and Museums

**Sleeping Habits and Museums**

* * *

Later on, they had a wonderful dinner with many things Harry didn't even know existed. He was also subtly warned away from certain dishes by his fiancée. It seems that while Hermione had inherited her mother's eyes, she hadn't inherited her taste or flavor preference, and that seemed like a good thing to Harry. Pickled artichokes might be good in other things, but he was pretty sure they weren't supposed to be the ingredient in virgin daiquiris.

Soon enough, it was time for bed.

"Harry, why don't I show you to where you'll be sleeping?" Xander said. He led them up a winding spiral staircase, up two floors and down a hall. Harry flashed a smile at Hermione who was following close behind. Xander led them to the very last door. "Here you go, Harry."

"Dad, this is _my_ room," Hermione said, glancing up uncertainly at her father.

"It's perfectly fine - you're both engaged, remember," Xander said with an honest face. It was a complete fabrication, but he'd had plenty of practice putting it on.

"Uh, maybe this isn't such a good idea," Harry said. "I mean, I'm only thirteen."

"Yeah, Dad!" Hermione said, giving the older man The Look™. It didn't work this time.

"If you want this to work you need to understand each other better than just being friends," Xander said with an air of wisdom about him. "I insist," he pushed them inside, "but no hanky-panky beyond kissing."

He took a moment loom over them like some cyclopian monolith of promised doom. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought that there were a few faint bars from Also sprach Zarathustra by Richard Strauss.

"We'll _know_," he added ominously.

The two students both nodded blankly as they didn't trust the thoughts going through their heads.

As he shut the door behind him, his face broke into a triumphant grin. He saw his wife down the hall with a bemused face.

"You passive-aggressive bastard," Dawn said. "You know how Hermione thrashes around in her sleep. That's why she's got a king-sized bed in the first place."

"Well, I had to punish the brat somehow," Xander said. "Get engaged to _my_ daughter will he? Muwahahaha!"

* * *

Back inside, Harry and Hermione looked at each other blankly. Both shot fleeting glances at the bed, but then their gazes went back to each other. They squirmed in place, each as uncomfortable as the other.

"So, uh," Harry said. "This is your room?"

"Uh-huh," Hermione said numbly. "I guess it's your room now, too."

"Right," Harry said slowly in a very unsure tone.

"I-" they both said at the same time. "But I-"

They cut off again, still not really sure how this had happened.

Hermione put on a look of determination. "Pajamas."

"Right," Harry agreed. "Pajamas."

Then they looked at the extra bureau in the room. Harry's things were still not put away, and he wasn't completely sure it was a good idea to unpack. He rummaged around and finally found a pair of sleep robes. Hermione was not thinking straight, either, and was having a hard time to find something to wear. She was pretty sure her normal panties-and-shirt combo would _not_ be acceptable in this setting, so she searched through her bureau, looking for the elusive pair, only to find them at the bottom of the drawer that she kept the clothes she rarely wore, but which her parents insisted on buying. Ironically, they found their choices at the same time.

"Pajamas," said Harry.

"Pajamas," agreed Hermione.

Now they just had to figure out how to put them on.

Needless to say, teen insecurities and unfamiliar settings and situations were interfering with their thought processes. Finally, without saying a word, they started to undress, neither one breaking eye contact, and trusting their hands to know how to do the job for them. Neither looked at the other's naughty bits, no matter how much they wanted to.

Eventually, after several embarrassing moments, they were dressed for bed.

Both of them looked at the king sized bed like it was some kind of unknown, pseudonatural entity that had invaded their personal space. The bedspread and sheets were a dark red, almost the color of blood. Four posts went up to a canopy that had a large storage space above it with several drawers. The bed itself was pushed up against the wall to maximize the space utilization in the room.

"You can-" Hermione said.

"No, it's your-"

"But you're-"

They paused and came to a quiet decision.

"I'll take the outside, you take the wall," Hermione said.

Nervously, uncomfortably, and naively, the two crawled under the covers and attempted to sleep.

They must have stayed awake for hours, making sure not to touch.

Eventually, Harry felt himself slip into the arms of Morpheus as the events of the day caught up with him. Hermione fell asleep not long after, pondering the look of confusion that still muddled her accidental fiancé's face.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Hermione's right heel came crashing down on Harry's left shoulder, narrowly missing his head, disrupting a very nice dream about relaxing at the pool that afternoon. Somehow sensing danger, Harry dodged another blow, however on the third attack a flailing fist aimed at his kneecap. Inwardly he sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

The next morning Harry Potter looked like he lost six rounds with Muhammad Ali, Evander Holyfield and Mike Tyson - all at the same time. If one had seen him with his shirt off, they might have thought Bruce Lee gave a helping hand as well.

"Harry! What happened to you?" Hermione asked, checking him over for wounds.

"You did," Harry muttered darkly.

It should probably be noted, for the sake of the historical record, that Harry was suffering from both sleep deprivation and possible concussion, and so wasn't thinking right. Hermione did not note this (probably because she was suffering from the same, minus the concussion), and promptly tossed him out of her room.

* * *

It was a chilly breakfast that morning, with both Harry and Hermione shooting dark glances at each other. Harry, for his part, held a bag of ice on his head and had another strapped to his leg.

Xander, on the other hand, looked like the Cheshire Cat in human form. "Eggs anyone?"

Hermione glared at her father. He didn't flinch.

"Honey," Dawn said, leaning in close so she could whisper in her husband's ear. "Don't you think that was a little cruel?"

"What doesn't kill him will make him stronger," Xander said with a shrug. Dawn was clearly not convinced of this and demonstrated where Hermione got her glare, before muttering something about Harry being Superman in a week.

Buffy, however, was having nothing of it and looked him over for wounds. "Oh, you poor boy," she said, pushing some of his unruly hair back. "Did you fall down the stairs or something?"

"No, Herm-urk, no, just a bump," Harry said, rubbing the spot where Hermione had just elbowed him in the side. She was blushing a bright red. The sly grin on her aunt's face suggested that Buffy knew about the previous night's events, but chose not to mention it. Harry and Hermione just looked down at their plates.

"It looks like someone beat you up," Hermione's aunt said, carefully inspecting the bruise on his neck. Hermione twitched a bit at the comment and proceeded to glare at her food.

"So, what is everyone going to do on this fine Saturday?" Giles asked from the head of the table. He glanced briefly at Harry and winced in sympathy. Harry looked like Giles had after that "friendly play time" with Angelus, all those years ago.

"Willow and Tara are coming back in from the States today, so I figured I'd pick them up," Buffy said.

"Work," Xander replied. "We're behind schedule, so I figured I'd go into the office and give them a hand."

Harry gave a shudder at the thought of the one-eyed dentist going into work. If he was religious raised, he would have said a prayer for the patients. Hermione's dad was treating them like they were factory products.

"I've got letters to write," Harry said.

"I'm going to do a bit of reading in the library," Hermione said. There was an unspoken understanding that the two of them would be on opposite ends of the house.

"I was thinking of taking a swim," Faith said with a smile. Predictably, Harry's face turned as red as his school tie. That brought out a laugh from the dark haired woman. She turned to Dawn. "What about you, Dawnie? Want to join me for a swim?"

Dawn Summers just raised an eyebrow. That started Harry's imagination running wilder and Faith to laugh louder.

"I am heading in, as well," Giles said. "We just received a new exhibit which the previous Museum head failed to inform me of."

"How long is that going to take you to get done?" Dawn asked. "Maybe you could take Harry and Hermione with you? They can read and write at the museum just as easily as staying home."

"I think that would be a wonderful idea," Giles said. "Harry, I might even be able to give you some spending money, if you help me out."

"Um, that's okay, I'll help, but I don't need the money," Harry said, thinking of his vaults. "What museum do you work at?"

"Oh, I'm now the director of the British Museum," Giles replied warmly. "I've worked there on and off for some time. They recently requested that I administer the entire thing. I'm really just a glorified paper pusher. I do wish they would let me go back to being a simple archivist."

"So, is that a big place?" Harry asked. The others looked at him like he was crazy.

"Harry, you've never heard of the _**British Museum**_?" Hermione inquired in a tone of reverence and disbelief usually reserved for religious fanatics preaching the benefits of their own personal deity or pantheon.

"Uh, no. I've only been to the Zoo once," Harry replied thinking of the snake incident. "The Dursleys weren't much for anything that I would find fun."

"You're coming to the Museum," Hermione said flatly. Even with everything that had happened since the night before, Harry wasn't about to argue with that tone of voice.

* * *

Thanks be to Greywizard once more for all the editing and beta reading.


	4. Museums and Dogs

**Museums and Dogs**

* * *

"The museum was built in 1753, primarily by donations by Sir Hans Slone," Hermione said as they approached the building. "But it wasn't open to the public until 1759."

She continued along, reciting everything she knew about the building, its exhibits and the various people involved with it over the centuries. Then, as they went inside, Giles excused himself and slipped into his office, while Hermione threw out facts like an encyclopedia on tape.

She led him right directly to the Rosetta Stone and started rattling off facts faster than before.

"Hermione," he interrupted. "I _have_ heard of the Rosetta Stone before."

"Oh. Good," she said. But that didn't stop her from reciting the entire known history of the artifact.

She led them through several other exhibits, continuing her narration, until eventually they got back to Giles' office and she said: "And that about covers the important stuff."

Suddenly, there was a cacophony of applause from behind them. The two budding mages jumped in surprise.

"Such a darling little docent," said an older woman who grabbed Hermione by the cheek and pinched. Harry could tell his accidental fiancée was trying not to lash out at the idiot. He'd be just as disturbed if he'd been the object, instead.

"No, I'm just showing Harry around," Hermione said. "Have a good day. I recommend taking a tour." She paused until the people had left before turning with a muddled look. "I hate it when that happens."

"Happen often?"

"Too often," Hermione grumbled. "I can't help it that I'm smart. I was raised to be proud of my intelligence, but I don't like showing off. When something like that happens, it just seems like I am. I guess it's not so bad now that I'm older, but it was annoying as a six year old."

"This happened when you were six?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"At least, now they believe me. Back then, they just assumed I'd made up some story."

"Huh," Harry pondered. "Oh, I guess I'll work on some of those letters."

Together, they stepped into the office where Rupert Giles was screaming into a telephone. It was rather uncharacteristic, but ironically, supremely British, judging by tone and word choice. The two waited quietly until he was done, and Giles had slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"I bloody _hate_ the Watcher's Council."

"The who?"

"Never mind that, my good lad," Giles said. "If you want paper, there's plenty in the printer for the infernal machine Willow forced me to buy."

"Infernal machine?"

Hermione sighed the sigh of the long suffering relative. "He means the computer."

"Oh," Harry said. There was a long moment as conversation died before Harry made his way to the paper. "I'll just start on those letters."

* * *

The first person Harry wrote to was Ron. He hoped Ron wouldn't be too upset with what was happening. Even Harry wasn't sure how he felt about everything, but he decided it wouldn't change things to hate it.

_Dear Ron,_

_I don't know where to start. This is so utterly insane I can't even begin to describe what a mess this has become._

_First of all, I was joking when I asked Hermione to marry me. I didn't know we'd be forced into it like this. It was just one of those things, you know? But god, she's just as bossy as she was that first year. It's all rules, rules, rules. And don't even get me started on sleeping with her. I get bruises just thinking about it._

_Second, her father is a scary, scary guy. Remember how Herm. told us that her parents are dentists? Well, her father's only got one eye; wears a patch over the other. And he puts sharp objects in people's mouths for money. I'm man enough to admit he gives me the wiggins. I'm not sure that's a real word, but Hermione's aunt uses it, so it must be._

_Hermione's folks are American. She never told us about that. She gets her accent from growing up around here and from her gramps. He runs this big museum, and at first glance, he seems like he'd be a drag, but he's got a wicked sense of humor. Her mom is really young looking. So young, I figured her for a six year, at first. She just laughed and showed me her stretch marks. I don't get why they're important and showing them off seems rather creepy._

_There's also Mrs. Robinson, but Hermione calls her Faith. She…_

Harry went on to describe in minute detail everything about his encounter with Faith. He told everything from the color of her hair to the location of her moles. Afterward, he inquired about life with the Weasleys and Quidditch before wrapping up the letter. Hedwig showed up to take the letter from his waiting hand and soon it was delivered.

In hindsight, they should have known it was Ron's fault.

You see, Ronald Weasley was the _perfect_ example of the stereotype Slytherins had against Gryffindor. He was prone to excited action, and not prone to planning or using his mental faculties. Needless to say, it was not much of a surprise that Ron didn't pay much attention to the letter except for three things: 1.) Harry was apparently having wild, passionate sex with Hermione; 2.) Harry was afraid of dentists, ergo, dentist must be really scary dangerous types; and 3.) Faith was really, _really_ hot and apparently interested in doing things with boys his age.

Mind you, all three of these are taken out of the original context, and while Harry and Hermione were sleeping in the same bed, there were rules they had to follow; Harry was really just afraid of Hermione's father; and while Faith was hot, she had absolutely no interest in boys. She preferred _men_, and it was an important distinction. She just liked to tease Hermione.

Ron, however, was never one to let the facts interfere with the "truth."

So he immediately told his good friend Dean. Dean told another Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom; that Gryffindor told Hanna Abbot, a Hufflepuff. Hanna told the rest of the Hufflepuffs. They, in turn, spread it to the two remaining houses, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. At this point, it reached the ears of two other people who would have a greater impact on the Wizarding World to come: Rita Skeeter and Draco Malfoy.

Now, it should be noted that no one but the muggle raised and muggle born students knew what a dentist was; the others only knew dentists to be horrible people who put sharp nasty things in your mouth. One other thing also came to light: muggles _paid_ dentists to do this! When news of this came to Draco Malfoy, he started rethinking his position in life. After some months of contemplation and research, the boy would eventually confront his father about the issue.

"Father?"

"Yes, Draco?" his father asked, setting down the Daily Prophet.

"I have decided to become a dentist," Draco Malfoy announced. Lucius Malfoy had a look of pure confusion.

"What, pray tell, is a dentist?"

"You remember that mudblood, Granger?"

His father nodded.

"As it turns out, her parents are dentists," Draco said before pausing for his father's sudden outburst.

_"A pure blooded scion of this noble house? _Taking up a _muggle_ occupation? _**I think not!**_ How could you even _consider_ such a preposterous thing?"

"Hear me out, Father," Draco said patiently. "I have given this much thought."

Clearly not pleased, Lucius _did_ allow him to explain.

"Dentists are torture specialists," Draco said. "They use tools to cause pain and suffering in the mouths of muggles."

"We have the Cruciatus Curse," Lucius corrected. "There is no need for any muggle technique."

"Ah, but the crux of the matter is that muggles voluntarily go to a dentist for this torture," Draco said. "They actually _**pay **_to be tortured."

"And they enjoy this?"

"No! But they've been convinced that it is in their best interest!" Draco said. "Don't you see father? We've been torturing them for years, but we've been doing it for _free!_"

"Merlin's Blood!" Lucius said numbly as a picture of muggle culture was finally clarified in his mind. "How could we have been so blind? Very well Draco, you have my blessing to become a dentist."

"Thank you, Father," Draco said, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

* * *

Rita Skeeter, on the other hand, was after a story.

That story was that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was living with a girl at the age of 13 and having a maddeningly, and deliciously adult relationship with Hermione Granger. It was a story so good, she couldn't have possibly made it up. This was the kind of thing that careers were made of. The concept was _delicious. _

As soon as she heard the rumor, she ran to her editor.

"Chief! Chief!" she called out to the grey haired older man.

"What is it? And don't call me chief!"

"I just heard the most delightful rumor that I think would be wonderfully placed on the Prophet's front page," Skeeter said, batting her eyes and acting more friendly to the man than she normally would. The editor wasn't amused.

"What? Some more of your rumor mongering? You'd better have proof this time," he growled.

"Oh, not yet, but I know where I can get it," she said with a giddy jump. "I have a friend who can help me along."

"Fine, out with it!"

"Harry Potter got engaged to a muggleborn!"

"_Great Shades of Merlin!"_ the chief swore spitting out his Cuban. He caught his cigar before it could fall on the floor. He shrugged helplessly. "Alice has been telling me to quit." His tone instantly got back to business. "How do you know this?"

"I have a fly on the wall in Hogwarts. We knew this thing would happen eventually," Skeeter said. "I just didn't think it would be so soon! And what gets better - I have it on good authority that they are sharing a bed!"

"Great Gandalf! He's only thirteen!"

"With an older woman involved, too," Skeeter said.

"Go for it, Skeeter," the Chief said. "I want the dirt on this kid from beginning to end. Get me his whole life's story, not just the killing curse part. Everything. You might just get that front page."

"Wonderful!" she said with a slight jump. "I'll get Granger's address immediately!"

"Take a photographer! A good story ain't nothing without good art!"

"Sure thing, chief!"

_"DON'T CALL ME CHIEF!"_

* * *

Back at the British Museum before the rumor mill started to grind:

Harry wrote several other letters, telling both Remus and Sirius where he was and what had happened. He knew he was going to regret the response, somehow; he just wasn't sure in what way. By the time he was done, he felt it was almost time for him to crash, having gotten little sleep the night before. Hermione was stuck in a book about ancient burial rituals while Giles was packing up for the night.

"Ready to go, Harry?" Giles asked as he snapped the briefcase shut.

"I'm all set, but it looks like someone's lost in a book," Harry said pointing at the girl in the corner. Even at fourteen, the size of the book still made her look like a little girl reading something far too large for her to handle. Giles smiled inwardly at the appearance, remembering many a time when she would fall asleep with her head in a book.

"Hermione, time to go," the older man called out. He took a couple of steps closer. "Hermione."

When she still didn't respond, he flashed a light in her eyes, making her jump, almost tossing the book in the air. "What? What's going on?"

"Time to go," Giles said. "The book will still be here next time you come."

"There just aren't that many books on Inca burial rituals from the era," Hermione said. "Granted, this one is in Spanish, but that's just because the Inca didn't have a written language."

"Yes, I've read the book myself," Giles replied with a grin. "It is, after all, why I have it in my collection. And as such, it shall remain in my collection and be here when you next visit."

Hermione huffed and got back up off the floor. She smiled at Harry, and he smiled back. This seemed to be the right response. For a while, it seemed like the previous antagonistic atmosphere was gone.

As the trio wandered out the doors, an overly familiar dog showed up.

"Sirius? What are you doing here?" Harry hissed as he pretended to pet the dog's head. The dog just wagged his tail and dropped a scroll in the boy's hand. Harry unrolled it and examined the text. "You wrote '_I am just an ordinary dog_.' What kind of talk is that? You signed it with a paw print."

Padfoot just wagged his tail, cocked his head to the side and pretended to be just a normal dog.

"Harry, it might not be the best choice to pet strange dogs," Giles cautioned.

"That's okay," Hermione said. "He's Harry's dog that ran away when he found out he was going to be neutered."

Sirius blanched as well as a dog could and ran behind Harry. Giles gave him a long strict look that did not bode well for the scruffy cur. Somehow he had come to a decision, pulling off his glasses and rubbing them clean.

"Very well," Giles said. "Get him into the back seat. But I might remind you that if he messes my car, he _won't_ be my responsibility."

"I understand, sir," Harry agreed.

"You really do not have to call me 'sir,'" the man said. "Giles is fine."

"Thanks!" Harry said as he opened the door for his big dog friend to jump inside. Harry climbed in after him. In the brief moment before Giles walked around and climbed in, Hermione turned around and hissed.

"You both owe me big time!" she said in a low voice. It wasn't unfriendly, but both of them knew she wasn't joking around. Neither Harry nor Hermione had gotten around to explaining Sirius to her family, and standing around in the middle of the parking lot wasn't the best place to be doing so.

Harry nodded in agreement, but Padfoot just wagged his tail and cocked his head. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics.

* * *

Okay! A new cast member is introduced! Next time we'll see the visit of Willow and Tara, as well as Faith's new toy. Well, seeing as I don't feel like upping the rating, we'll only be seeing a very brief, socially acceptable part of Faith's new toy.

Please read and tell me if this story makes any sense at all. Thanks!


	5. Willow, Tara and Naughty Dog

**Willow, Tara and Naughty Dog**

* * *

"Oh, great! You're back," Dawn said from the sitting room. "Willow and Tara just arrived."

Hermione took off like a bat out of hell, practically tackling a redheaded woman and pulling her into a long hug. Soon, a voluptuous blonde joined them in a small group hug. "Hermione Jane! What is this I hear about you getting engaged?"

Hermione and Harry blushed like they had never blushed before. The redhead flicked him gently on the nose with her forefinger. "So you must be the one? Hmm… Quite the looker, isn't he, Tara? You must drown in those emerald pools he's got for eyes, eh, Hermes?"

"Willow!" Hermione protested, utterly embarrassed at the cross-examination.

"I know, I know," the redhead said, pulling her in for another hug. "So how have you been doing at this magic school?"

Hermione chatted amicably, not even realizing that she hadn't officially introduced Harry and vice versa. Harry just sat down with a glass of water and listened to Hermione's version of the previous year. He did note that she specifically neglected any mention of animagus abilities, but did mention Remus' "furry problem."

"Oh, well maybe I should contact Oz," Willow said with a slightly sad smile.

"Oh, would you? Professor Lupin could really use a boost," Hermione said.

It was then that Harry realized two things: one, Padfoot had taken up residence on the rug and was unabashedly looking up Tara's skirt, and two, Faith had charged in the front door with a man on her shoulder. He couldn't recognize the person (as he could only see the back end and legs), but he seemed to be unconscious.

"Hey, Red, Toots," Faith said quickly with a grin that suggested something dirty. "Can't talk now; got to take care of something I just picked up."

And with that, she was running up the stairs. Harry looked on wide eyed, while Hermione was speechless with embarrassment. The two women paused a moment before breaking into dulcet laughter and the occasional snort.

"Good to see Faith has only changed for the better," Willow snarked.

"Hopefully with the kids in the house, she won't kick him out in his boxers this time," Buffy said, bringing in fresh tea, an act that did not go unnoticed.

"You? Tea?" Willow asked. "Buffy Summers bringing tea? Is this the same girl I went to high school and college with?"

"Hey, it grows on you," Buffy said. "But I still pour my milk into my tea and not the other way."

"Not a lost cause, then," Tara agreed with a pretty smile.

"Nope, no cause losing here," Buffy agreed. Hermione was right, Harry decided as he listened: Buffy probably was a bad influence on his lexicon. Buffy looked down, seeming to notice Padfoot for the first time. "Whose dog? Looks like he needs a bath."

"Mine, and his name's Padfoot," Harry said. "He probably does need a bath."

"I was going to take a shower, anyway; why don't I bring him in with me?"

Both Harry and Hermione seemed to go into shock at the statement.

"No, that, uh, that might not be a good idea," Hermione panicked. Harry nodded agreement, a look of dismay on his face.

"He's, well, he's a very hard dog to wash," Harry said, scrambling for a reason to disagree.

"Oh, that's fine," Buffy said. "I'm much stronger and faster than I look."

"No! He's-" Hermione started.

"He's a really naughty dog!" she finished.

"Yeah, he's a naughty dog!" Harry agreed.

Both teens started nodding in unison. Buffy laughed.

"Maybe I should ask him?" she said, sending the two into shock. She bent down and took his head in her hands. "Padfoot, would you like to take a bath with me?"

If a dog could reach Nirvana, Padfoot would have at those words. He started wagging and licked her palm.

"I'd say that settles it," Buffy said with finality. She got up and the big shaggy dog followed right along.

"Don't say I didn't warn her," Harry said, washing his hands of the impending catastrophe. "I'm going to the kitchen."

"I'll help," Hermione said as she jumped up from the couch.

As soon as they were alone in the sitting room, Tara turned to her lover and gave her an inquisitive look. "Why didn't you tell Buffy he was a man in dog form?"

"Because it's funny," Willow said, before taking a sip of tea. The twinkle in her eye seemed to break the carefully schooled expression she wore. Tara leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"You are an evil, evil woman and I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"Harry, Hermione, it's time for bed," Dawn called out promptly at nine o'clock. Harry shot Hermione a slightly terrified look, but complied at her glare. Together, they trudged up the stairs.

"You have a curfew?" Harry asked her about half way up.

"They like to talk about things that they think I don't know about," Hermione said. "It doesn't really work, and I heard most of it on the bus to school before Hogwarts."

"Oh, that kind of stuff, right," Harry said. At the top of the stairs was a very happy Padfoot. If a dog could suffer from euphoria syndrome, Padfoot would be that dog.

"Harry, you have a very naughty dog," Buffy said in a friendly tone. Her body was covered with a towel and she was still brushing her long hair as she wandered around. "He kept licking in places he shouldn't lick."

Instead of getting embarrassed like she expected, Harry grew very pale.

"Please don't kill him," Harry said with a voice devoid of humor. "He's the only one I've got."

Buffy clearly didn't understand.

"Why would I do that?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look.

"It's complicated," they said in unison. Buffy didn't get it, but she also didn't argue.

The two teens quickly went to their room. Then they remembered that Harry still had yet to move in. With a great sigh, they managed to fit all their things in the same bureau and closet, but it was a close fit. Although Hermione Ganger did not have a vast collection of clothes comparable to her mother or her aunt, she did have a fair number. It was rather challenging to find places just for Harry's few things.

"You need new clothes for everyday stuff," Hermione said. She was vastly saddened by the state of his clothes. He had perhaps one set of clothing that was good for muggle streets and you couldn't very well wear Wizarding gear at any time that wasn't Halloween. He needed a pair of jeans, some new shoes, and at least a few shirts. She knew he had some money, so it wouldn't be an issue to go to a place where he could be outfitted for something other than school.

"Never thought about it before," Harry lied.

He didn't like talking about the situation with the Dursleys. He didn't even like thinking about the Dursleys. Even if he got kicked in the head last night, even if he knew that Hermione's aunt was going to eventually kill his godfather, even if he was sharing a room and a bed with Hermione of all people, these were the best days he'd had outside of Hogwarts.

For the first time in a long time, Harry Potter was happy in the muggle world. But that didn't mean he wanted to talk about it.

"Well, then, I'll just tell Mom to take us shopping tomorrow," Hermione decided, ignoring any hint of protest on his part. "We'll have to go to Diagon Alley first to pick up some money and then we'll go to get it changed. Maybe I could pick up some books there too. But then we'll go to Soho and get a few things. Buffy will know what to do. Buffy always knows what to do for shopping."

Even though he was happy to be replacing some of Dudley's hand-me-downs, there was a sense of impending doom when he pondered what the next day would bring. And then he realized that he and Hermione were done unloading his things and it was time to dress for bed.

With that in mind, Hermione took charge, locking eyes with Harry as they undressed. It was an act that would become a ritual for them, a strange method of keeping certain bits a mystery, while parroting an adult relationship.

First Harry, then Hermione, climbed into bed, pulled the sheets up to their neck and fell asleep. Knowing what was coming, Harry dodged the first flying foot.

* * *

Next time: An Auror, a Slayer and a broken wand. No, that isn't a euphemism.


	6. Shopping Shopping List and Hyperactivity

**Shopping, Shopping Lists and Hyperactivity**

* * *

Whoops, made some promises that won't be coming for a while. We'll have to wait and see on them.

Enjoy!

* * *

Downstairs in the bathroom, Xander Harris-Granger was hatching an evil plot. Aiming ever so precisely, the one-eyed father curled his forefinger around into his thumb and let go in a powerful flick that sent his fourteen year old daughter's leg razor flying into the toilet.

"Oh, no!" he said in a voice that would have won the Academy Award for Worse Actor. For the decade. "I seem to have knocked my daughter's razor into the toilet. Oh whatever shall I do?" He chuckled slightly; it was an evil, evil chuckle. "She will have to use her fiancé's razor instead."

_*Ahem!*_

Xander looked up to see all but two of the ladies of the house glaring at him in the mirror. He had enough sense to look guilty.

"I was just…"

"I know what you were 'just'," Dawn growled as she crossed her arms under her breasts. "You know how much it hurts when I use your razor; you damn well had better not make Harry go through the same thing."

"But-"

Then Willow gave him the Resolve Face. He glanced at Tara who was giving him the "Oh, I'm sympathetic, you poor, poor deluded creature" look that she sometimes gave demons trying to open hellmouths. Buffy gave him the "Puppy eyes of Doom" look. Dawn just gave him a glare that would melt stone if she wanted it to. Xander, after many trials, knew when to accept defeat and trudged slowly out of the bathroom and into the sitting room.

After he left, Dawn pinned up a note telling her daughter NOT to use Harry's razor and that she would buy a replacement the following day. Then she returned to the sitting room for the conversation about what to do.

"How goes the Maine situation?" Giles asked Tara.

"Well," she said, as if she wasn't quite sure of where to start. "Ends up, Stephen King doesn't really write fiction."

"Yeah, Maine has more hellmouths than any other place I can think of," Willow agreed. "'Salem's Lot, Derry, Castle Rock, Leeds, they're all over the place."

"Aren't you guys busy keeping them closed?" Xander asked, diverting attention from his previous activities.

"There's a reason that Maine has one of the highest per capita gun ownership and lowest gun crime rates," Willow said with a grin. "We rarely have to lift a finger."

"Well, there was that one time with the evil possessed dog," Tara pointed out.

"Yeah, there was that," Willow admitted. "And the evil possessed car named Christine. And don't even get me started on the aliens."

"So, no Sunnydale Syndrome?" Giles asked, curious about the possibilities.

"Nope, but people just don't really talk about it," Willow replied excitedly. "It's funny - any other state if a celebrity walked down the street, it would be on the local news, at least. In Maine, they could walk down the street naked and only the tourists would make a big deal."

"I can't believe there's a place where everybody keeps to themselves that much," Giles exclaimed.

"Oh, they're very nice about it," Tara said with a smile. "But they'll almost always help out if you ask. I'm learning organic gardening."

"Still, we can't stay long," Willow said. "Signs and portents, you know."

"_Ugh_," Buffy said. "Those are almost as bad as prophesies."

"No argument here," Xander said.

"So, what are we doing about the Hermione/Harry situation?" Giles asked.

"We know what someone was doing about the situation," Dawn growled at her husband. This time he pretended to be innocent, or at least pretend to pretend to be innocent because he knew that if he met her gaze it would be the end for him. After the situation was explained, Giles joined the family members glaring at him, (or in Tara's case, looking at him with disapproval, which considering her, it was almost like being hit by a Saturn V rocket of disapproval).

"Xander, I cannot imagine what possessed to you to do such a thing," Giles said after the one-eyed man's actions were described.

"Yeah!" Buffy said. "They're already under so much stress from this whole not-a-joke marriage thing and you're just making it worse! They'll end up hating each other!"

"But it's my right as father of my baby girl to make the lives of any prospective mate worse than living in hell," Xander half whined.

"Then threaten him with an axe," Dawn said wagging a finger in his face. "Don't do petty things."

She punctuated her statement with a poke at his ribs.

"It wasn't petty, it was devious," Xander corrected. The others clearly didn't agree. "Damn, if Faith was here, she'd understand."

"_I know what you're doing!_" Willow practically screamed while pointing at her oldest friend. "You're trying to make yourself not like him!"

"What?"

"You totally are! You're trying to make it easier when things fall apart because you genuinely like the kid," Willow continued. "It makes sense, you are so much alike. He's actually a lot like if you mashed you and Buffy together and had a kid."

"And thank you for that entirely creepy image, Willow," Dawn said. "You're making _me_ want to dislike him now."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at her little sister.

"Let's get back to the issue at hand, shall we?" suggested Giles. "Now, what do we know about Harry?"

"He has a dog and an owl," Buffy said, "A very pretty owl and a very naughty yet smart dog. That boy really needs some obedience training."

Tara and Willow stifled giggles at that comment.

"He jumped at the chance to come here, to a place with people he didn't know, just to be away from his relatives," Dawn put in, giving Xander a look. The man had the good grace to look ashamed. "He never said anything, but between his actions and what Hermione wrote home about, his home life wasn't good. Hermione mentioned living in the cupboard under the stairs for his first twelve years. It wasn't something he told her, but something one of their professors said, a Mr. Hagrid."

Everyone was quiet for a long while.

"Xander, he doesn't need a father-in-law now, he needs a friend," Tara stated.

"He's too young to even understand these things," Dawn said. "I bet he doesn't even realize she's a girl. He's getting there, his reaction to Faith made his sexuality blatantly clear, but he doesn't really know what a relationship involves."

"I propose a wait and see approach, if no one objects?" Giles suggested. "Perhaps with more research we can gain a better foothold into the situation. Now my other question is, why in god's name are they sharing a bed? Goodness knows we've got plenty of room!"

"That was another of Xander's pranks," Dawn said. "You remember how she used to flail around in her sleep? Well, she still does, only with fists and kicks."

"Oh, so that explains the lies about falling down the stairs," Buffy said. "I knew he was fibbing, but didn't know why."

"And what does he know about us?" Willow asked. "I don't expect Hermione to tell the world that her parents are professional demon hunters."

"Nonsense, we don't get paid for it," Xander said dismissively. "Can't be professional if we aren't paid for it. We're just in the NCAA of demon hunting. These days we're pretty much weekend softball league demon hunters."

"You'll have to make do on the Microsoft and Apple stock I bought us," Willow said. "Playing the markets is working for us. We just need to time things right and we'll be raking it in."

"A Sunnydale reunion and we've got money," Dawn said. "And no Doublemeat this time."

"Oh, shut it," Buffy told her sister with a playful slap on the arm.

* * *

"So Mum, that's why I thought we'd go shopping today," Hermione said.

"Shopping?" Buffy asked. Harry blinked. He was sure she had been taking a shower a second ago. Yep, the water was still running and she was dressed only in a towel.

"Um," Harry said. Noting the gaze of Hermione and her mother, he was very carefully looking only at Buffy's face. "How did you…?"

"My shopping sense was tingling," Buffy said. "We're going. Don't forget to bring your Handy Haversack, cuz we're gonna fill it up."

"Oh, okay," Harry said, utterly confused. An instant later, Buffy was back in the shower. He turned to the others with a confused look. "How did she do that?"

Hermione and Dawn shared a look.

"It's complicated," they said in unison.

"Oh," Harry said.

Back in the shower, a certain perverted dog climbed in and enjoyed the, *_ahem_*, water with Buffy. Faster than she usually took, she was out and drying off. Padfoot took the moment she was done drying to shake.

"Ooo! You naughty dog! Now I have to dry myself all over again! We really need to have a talk about your behavior," Buffy chided as she ran the towel over her body once more. Padfoot considered shaking again, but then decided against it. If you do something too often, you just get stuck in a rut. Besides, he was already a very happy dog.

* * *

"So this is Diagon Alley," Buffy said. "Looks like a tourist trap from Salem, Mass."

"Actually, Salem has the Witch's Institute," Hermione corrected.

"Whatever, let's go get some money so we can shop!" the blonde woman declared, almost as if it was an affidavit of war.

Not far away, shopkeepers looked up in surprise. There was a great disturbance in the Force, as if they would make enough in one day to pay off their loans and still have enough for rent for the next year. Today would be a good day to shop.

"What's first?" Harry asked.

"Gringott's," Hermione said. "You need enough for shopping."

"There are a lot of coins in there, I should have enough," Harry said. Hermione clasped her hand over his mouth and glanced around frantically.

"Don't say that where Aunt Buffy can hear you! She'll take it as a challenge!"

Unfortunately, she _did_ hear it, and unfortunately she _did_ take it as a challenge.

Harry filled up two theoretically bottomless backpacks in Diagon Alley alone. He wasn't sure if he was buying for himself any more, or if he was buying for the two of them as well.

"Aunt Buffy," Hermione said. "Harry probably doesn't need thirteen sets of dress robes. He isn't even done growing."

"Oh, right," Buffy said. "But they're so cute on him!"

Harry winced at that, especially when he heard other nearby shoppers laughing as well. Hermione took pity on him and grabbed him by the arm. "Come on, Harry, we need to get you some _**real**_ clothes now."

Her tone left no doubt as to what she thought of Wizarding fashions. Buffy apparently agreed. "You can't fight in any of this stuff. And that's coming from a woman who wears heels in graveyards."

No one in hearing range was really sure what to make of that, but Hermione chuckled nervously at her Aunt's outburst.

"So where to next?" Harry asked, knowing he would regret the answer. Buffy grabbed their arms and pulled them behind her.

"I know this great place."

It was like the ringing of a doom bell.

* * *

Hermione wasn't quite sure how to react to how well her family had taken to Harry.

On the one hand, she was happy that her father wasn't torturing him, but on the other, she wasn't sure how Harry would react to finding out she wasn't quite as Muggle as she appeared. Her parents _weren't_ dentists, after all. She watched as Buffy forced Harry to play dress-up, constantly putting on new sets of clothing. She could tell he was slightly overwhelmed, but Buffy tended to do that to people. She didn't want to think about That-Other-Thing; The Engagement Thing; The-Magically-Binding-If-You-Don't-Obey-You-Lose-Magic/Die Thing.

It was just so wrong of them to allow it to happen. Of course, she was looking at it from a Post-Feminist revolution standpoint. Socially, anthropologically speaking, the Wizarding World was just getting to the point where Jane Austin's Emma wouldn't be positively scandalous. It was hard for her to admit, but women were property, still. They were expected to be good little witches and go to Hogwarts, get their MRS degree and have bouncing magical babies as soon as possible. Careers weren't an option.

It was blatantly obvious to her, now, considering that the only successful career women in the Wizarding World weren't married. McGonagall, Sprout, Madame Malkins (ignoring the fact that the name suggested marriage), the various shopkeepers - almost all of them were old maids. The ones who weren't worked in shops named after their husbands.

There was no way she was going to allow that to stand for her. Being raised in a family of strong, forceful and successful women had created a stronger sense of what she deserved. Equality on paper does not make equality in reality, and that was all the Ministry allowed: equality on paper. It was little different from the opinions held by purebloods against muggleborns.

And this engagement was a perfect example of the insidious sexism that purveyed the Wizarding World, Hermione reflected. They had no reason to know it was going to be anything but a joke. And why should they? It was something so common in that society, that they assumed everybody knew what it was. She suspected that it was a way that most muggleborns got trapped and pulled in, at least for girls. She wasn't sure, but she suspected the loss of magical power didn't go both ways. She had this nagging suspicion that men kept their power if they decided to rid themselves of their spouses, but that the reverse was never true. She didn't have any proof, mind you, but the suspicion was there and it fit with common practice.

Hermione was secretly glad that Harry had made the joke and not anyone else. She certainly didn't want to marry anyone, especially not at fourteen! But there were plenty of worse people. At least she knew Harry wouldn't take advantage of the situation like certain other boys would. She also knew, somehow, Willow would find a way out of this.

* * *

"Faith!" Xander yelled, knocking on the door to her room. "Willow and Tara are here. Aren't you going to visit? You've been in there for almost a whole day."

Faith opened the door, her body glistening with sweat and covered by absolutely nothing. She stuffed a piece of paper in his hand. "Shopping list. Tell them I said hi."

And with that, Faith, known to Harry as "Mrs. Robinson," slammed the door in Xander's face. Xander stared at the now closed door for a long moment before turning and heading back towards the kitchen.

"That was not the response I was expecting," Xander said. He glanced down at the list in his hand before calling back through the door, "Faith! I'm not buying your boy-toy oysters and condoms!"

* * *

Okay _NEXT_ time we'll have an Auror, a Slayer and a Broken Wand...I promise.


	7. An Auror, A Slayer and a Broken Wand

**An Auror, A Slayer and a Broken Wand**

* * *

"Harry? Jeans are definitely your pants," Buffy said, eliciting chuckles from those nearby. "Oh, right," she corrected herself, "it's trousers in tweed-land, not pants like in the rest of the English speaking world."

"There's plenty wrong with that statement, but I'm not sure its worth the effort to correct," Hermione commented.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh at the California girl," her aunt replied casually. Hermione leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear.

"She hasn't even been to California in decades, you'd think she'd pick up some of the local culture," she said.

"What was that thing your father said last night? 'You can take the blonde out of California, but you can't take the California out of the blonde?'" Harry repeated Xander's comment, and together they laughed at her aunt's expense.

"Now, if you're done whispering sweet nothings, maybe Harry could try on a pair of these?" Buffy asked, holding up yet another outfit, this time a dark brown that resembled nothing very appetizing.

"Absolutely not," Harry said.

"Why not?"

"I think we've bought enough clothes the color of mulch, thank you," Harry protested, crossing his arms in a symbol for 'no.' Buffy sighed, and put them back on the rack.

"Fine, why don't you guys look for some things," she said, "I've got to look after something real quick."

They nodded and Hermione dragged Harry off to look at some dresses. Harry was of the opinion that it was better to sit for a while and wait for Hermione to model than to model himself.

Buffy walked around a corner and quickly pulled a man into a secluded alcove. Her hand was clasped hard across his mouth, preventing any words. His hand went for a weapon in his pocket, but she grabbed it, snapping it in two with one hand.

"None of that," she hissed. "You listen and listen well. I am fully capable of dealing with you in a permanent fashion and when it comes to the safety of my family, I don't have a problem with that. Now, I am going to take my hand away. You are not going to scream. You are not going to cast a spell. You are going to tell me in a quiet voice with a tone like we are neighbors, why you are following us. If you lie, and I'm a pretty good judge of that by now, I'll start breaking bones. Do we have a deal?" He nodded. "Good."

He took a deep breath as soon as she removed her hand from his mouth and nose. "I'm Potter's security detail. I was assigned to make sure he was safe. He isn't living with his relatives and the Ministry wanted someone to keep an eye on the situation."

"Then why don't you come out and say that? Why lurk? That is," she said with a little shake to his lapels, "if you are who you say you are."

"I can understand your hesitation, but unfortunately, you just broke the only way I had to prove my identity at the moment," the auror said, nodding to the broken wand.

"Honestly! You Freud-y mages and your little sticks," Buffy whined. "Why can't anybody just stay with a nice sacrificial dagger anymore? So much harder to accidentally break and multipurpose, too."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the man replied.

"I'll be a little clearer," Buffy said. "Either you join us in public instead of playing stalker boy, or I ensure you spend some time with some guys named Bubba in the local gulag."

"That's fine," the man said. Buffy held out her hand.

"Buffy Summers, and you are?"

"I, er, uh, Tonks," the man said, taking her hand.

"Is that a first name or a last name?" she asked, giving him a slightly harsh handshake.

"Owe! Just my name," the man said, shaking his hand. "You have a very strong grip."

She shrugged innocently. "I work out."

When they got back to the teens, Buffy introduced the man. "This is Tonks. He's part of your security detail."

"I have a security detail?" Hermione asked.

"Both of you actually," Tonks said. "And well, I'm it."

"Uh, why?" Harry asked.

"You're a public couple, right now," Tonks said. "The Ministry was worried that someone might decide to do something in a more permanent fashion. Also, there's that Sirius Black situation."

"Why would someone do that?" Harry asked. Tonks sighed and pulled a paper out of his back pocket and passed it to the teens. On the cover was a shot of them playing a game of pickup football with Padfoot, Giles and Buffy the night before. Both teens looked up scandalized. Buffy ripped it from their hands.

"This was taken from _inside_ the house!" Buffy snarled. She then glared up at Tonks. "I want an explanation! How can this happen? It's practically telling them exactly where we live!"

"I agree," Tonks said. He went on to discuss the various possible security options available and what it would take to have them placed on a muggle home. Harry leaned over to Hermione.

"Your aunt is scary when she's angry," he told her. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"She's just a little peeved," she countered. "You _really_ wouldn't like her when she's angry."

Harry just looked at her goggle eyed.

* * *

"Skeeter! MacOl, get in here!" the editor said. As soon as they were inside, he cast a spell closing the door and activating the privacy charms. "Good work, you two, great first part! The papers are practically flying off the shelves!"

"Oh, goody," Rita Skeeter said, rubbing her hands together. "What next?"

"I want a full spread on her family," the Chief said. He held his hand up as if he was writing the headline in the air. "I can see it now, 'Torturer's Daughter Marries Boy-Who-Lived'! This is the gravy train, kids. This is almost as good as if Bellatrix had married Sirius Black."

"But they're first cousins, chief," MacOl put in appalled. He was clearly a muggleborn.

"Sure, but the scandal would have sold papers," the Chief said. He started flipping through the pages. "What's up with this dog? In every shot he's flashing the brown eye!"

"Don't know, Chief," MacOl reported. "It's like he knew about the camera even if I was under an invisibility cloak. We had to crop him out just to get one good shot."

"Interesting," muttered the Chief. "Get me a full write up on the Grangers. I want histories, reports, anecdotes, old stories. Who is the old man? What's the dog's name? What pets do they have? Any scandals in their family?" The reporter and her loyal photographer paused, expecting him to continue, but the Chief abruptly pointed to the door. "What are you waiting for?"

"Yes, Chief!" they said as they scrambled to the newsroom.

"AND DON'T CALL ME CHIEF!"

* * *

Buffy decided that since the Wizarding World already knew where they lived, it wasn't a problem taking Tonks back to the house. Just to make sure that he was on the up-and-up with Willow and Tara. It never hurt to take precautions.

They were met, however, by a shortish girl with blonde hair that most bottle blondes could only dream of. She was also dressed up like Margot Kidder's Lois Lane, but with radish earrings and a yellow pad of paper about four sizes too big. She looked to be about a year or so younger than Harry and Hermione and had that affected appearance of professionalism that only children could pull off. The effect was cute, in an elfin way.

"Oh, goody," she said. "I'm Luna Lovegood, head reporter for the Quibbler."

Tonks, tried, really tried, to keep the smirk off his face. The girl was so serious that it was hard not to laugh.

"Are you happy with what's happened?" the girl asked Hermione.

"What happened?"

"Your engagement to Harry Potter," the girl asked.

"Oh, I don't really think about it," Hermione lied.

"Is it true that you're sharing a bed and having wild kinky sex?"

You couldn't have gotten a deeper, more scandalized blush off the two teens if you had tried.

"_Aaaaaa_and I think that's the end of the interview," Buffy said, pulling the pad of paper out of the girl's hand. She glanced over the notes. "You do realize that this is all made up, right?"

"What about how Miss Granger swore to become the next dark lord?" Lovegood asked.

"That's another misquote," Buffy said. She saw Tonks shaking with the effort to keep from laughing out loud at the girl. "Why don't you try again next weekend? We'll discuss this in a better setting."

"Okay!" And with that, she waved her wand, calling up the Knight Bus that screeched to a halt right in front of them. She jumped aboard and waved to them. It was so cute that the others couldn't help but wave back. Their hands dropped to their sides as soon as the Knight Bus pulled away.

Tonks looked a little worried a moment later.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"I just realized that I should have taken the bus," he said numbly. "My wand broke."

"You wand broke?" Harry and Hermione exclaimed in unison like it was a national tragedy. Hermione gave her aunt a dark look. Buffy looked "innocent" while Tonks winced as the truth was revealed.

"Uh, please don't tell anyone about this?" he pleaded. "I'll never hear the end of it, if the Department learns I got my wand broken."

"No worries here," Hermione assured him. He nodded. Buffy stifled a giggle at the unintentional double entendre. Turning back to Buffy, he gave her a regretful smile.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to take the Underground if I'm going to get home at a reasonable hour," Tonks admitted. "Perhaps we could discuss the protections another time?"

Hermione and Harry gaped as they saw Buffy actually blush slightly. "Sure, why don't you call or write for a time? I'm free most evenings these days, although afternoons are better."

Buffy casually grabbed his hand and wrote her number on his palm.

"Uh, thanks," Tonks said, a little confused. Tonks said his goodbyes and headed down into the closest connection to the Underground, before morphing back into her original shape. About half way home, she paused and looked at her hand.

"Did I just agree to a date?"

* * *

The next morning, two aging wizards did a spit-take upon reading the front page of the Daily Prophet. Walking along in plain black and white, were Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, an all-too-familiar dog, and Rupert "Ripper" Giles. Giles was listed as an "unknown grandfather" and that was none too settling to those who had been in on the situation.

"_Hermione Granger is Ripper Giles' granddaughter?_" Albus Dumbledore and Mad Eye Moody both bellowed in complete surprise, in unknown unison, in different locations. Then, almost immediately, they flooed each other, then finding it busy, stalking around their respective residences pondering what could possibly be so important that the other was on the floo so early. They tried again, but this time Moody was just slightly faster.

"Albus, I'm coming through," he announced a split second before he stepped through.

"I assume you've seen today's front page?" Albus asked.

"Indeed," Moody said. "You always did suspect that Granger was a little too skillful for her age."

"I had my suspicions, but this is not what I expected," Dumbledore replied. "I thought maybe she had a powerful witch in the family that we didn't know about, or perhaps some magical ancestry. But in Merlin's name, I never suspected that she'd be apprenticed to someone who summoned demons for fun!"

"What influence is this going to have on Harry?"

"I don't know," Albus said. "But I do have it on good authority that he is scared of her one-eyed dentist father."

"That's a very dangerous job, isn't it?"

"Oh, I'm sure it is," Albus agreed.

* * *

**Next time:** Angry Mother, Upset Daughter and Newspapers


	8. Where Wolf? There Wolf

**Where Wolf? There Wolf**

* * *

_**Daily Prophet**_

_**Harry Potter and Hermione Granger's Love Nest**_

_**Rita Skeeter reporting, photography by MacOl.**_

_Today we went inside their home to look at their spicy lovenest. The room, decked out in brightly romantic red, as you can see, is clearly the case of a woman's touch. They share their bureau like an experienced couple, suggesting that the announcement at Hogwarts less than a week ago was actually just the first public declaration._

_Since then, the couple has been seen trying dress robes at Madame Malkin's and muggle shops, no doubt planning for the wedding. While we do not know when the wedding will take place, be assured that the Daily Prophet will be there to get the latest details and the sharpest photographs. So far they have been seen primarily with the future Mrs. Potter's family, where they are staying for the duration._

_Sources say that the family fully approves of the match, Granger's father going so far as to insist that they share a bed. Is this a case of a muggle household burrowing its way into society? 'Yes,' say several sources in the Ministry. Not many are pleased by the match, especially by the public announcement._

_"It's being thrown right in the face of pureblooded society," said one witch. "Uppity [muggleborn] should know that such things should have a quiet elopement, not this flagrant display!"_

_She is not alone in her statements. Several members of Wizengamot stated their displeasure of the public side of the couple's relationship, even going so far as to chastise Miss Granger for her blatant disregard for propriety._

And it was about then that Hermione Granger swore an oath to get her revenge on the Skeeter woman.

But first, she needed to be alone to plot, so she stomped her way into the house library and slammed the door behind her.

"What was that all about?" Dawn asked, as her husband passed her breakfast.

"Oohh! that smells goooood!" she said, taking a whiff of the pancakes and real maple syrup Willow and Tara had brought. The two women in question were coming down as the smell of fresh food wafted through the air vents. "You are a wonderful husband."

"Don't thank me," Xander said. "Thank Harry. I think he's trying to butter up us In-Laws. But yes, I am a wonderful husband."

"Oh, that smells great!" Willow said, casually taking the plate Xander had served for himself. "So, what was with the slamming of doors?"

Xander spread the newspaper out on the counter for all to see. A brief glance later and Dawnie's eyes started filling with a green so dark it was almost black and her already dark hair got a few shades darker, changing its tint until it was a deep forest green.

"Whoa, pretty, lovely, beautiful wife of mine," Xander said. "I know you might have been taught by Wils here, but that's taking it a little too far."

"Too far? TOO FAR?" Dawn bellowed in pure unadulterated rage. "THEY WERE IN MY HOUSE, IN MY DAUGHTER'S ROOM AND THEY TOOK PICTURES AND YOU'RE TELLING ME THIS IS TOO FAR?"

Willow gently put a hand on Dawn's arm, shooting a glance at Xander as a long understood signal for him to shut up. "Dawnie, calm down."

Dawn looked at her like she might do something drastic. Willow countered with her Resolve Face and, finally, after what seemed like a few very tense moments, Dawn let go of her magic and calmed down.

"How can you be so blasé about this?" Dawn Summers demanded. "She's our daughter! Not only is she being stalked, but they're treating her like some kind of gold digging whore! I won't let this happen! It can't go unpunished!"

"And it won't," Faith said as she walked into the room. "Brainy Janey's crying her eyes out in the library. Somebody needs to go talk to her." Eyes caught sight of her much disheveled appearance. "Hey, not me. I'd scare her to worse than tears with the way I smell. I've been busy for a few days now."

"Yes, Faith," Willow said. "Everyone in the house heard your 'business.' Nice to know you care about old friends."

"Hey! I don't like that kind of talk any more than Janie likes this stuff," Faith said, gesturing to the paper.

"I want to rip out their spines and make their editors wear them like belts," Dawn said.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Xander said. "Now, whose turn is it to tell my darling daughter that none of this is her fault?"

"I'll do it," Tara volunteered. She got up and started back up the stairs to the library. As she left, Xander pulled the phone off the hook.

"I'm calling in a personal day," he said. "This is too important. And besides, that means Haversham needs to explain to the idiot architect why greenhouses belong on the south sides of buildings in this country."

His wife raised an eyebrow. He shrugged. "Benefits of being the boss. So, what do we actually know?"

"One, they were in our house without us knowing," Dawn said. "Two, they were able to bypass security in the building, so they didn't use the door, the roof or sewer access."

"Why do you guys have connections to the sewers?"

"Old medieval and renaissance tunnels, not sewage sewers," Xander explained not realizing who was speaking. "Lots of lairs. Oh, hi Harry."

"Lairs of what?"

"Uh, rats and… more rats," the man replied dumbly.

"Oooh-kaaay," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He was taking after Buffy way too much, pretty much everyone present thought to themselves. "So what is everybody so upse-oh!" He finished as Dawn held up the article that showed Hermione's bedroom. Dawn pulled the article away before he could read it.

"Don't read it, it'll just piss you off," she told the boy.

"But what's going on? How did they get that picture?" asked Harry numbly.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Dawn said. "Now, why don't you go talk to Hermione? She sure could use a friend, right now."

* * *

Hermione did need a friend. Tara was helping, but she was a little too divorced from the situation and it prevented her from really being there for the girl. She turned at the noise of the door opening and watched as Harry poked his head in to see how things were. She silently motioned him in. She disengaged herself from Hermione as Harry sat down on her other side.

Normally, Hermione would have tried to hide her feelings, seeing them as a bit of a moment of weakness, but at this point, she seemed to know that Harry felt the same way, at least to a certain degree. She pulled him close, for the first time, not afraid to let him see her softer, weaker side. Seeing her like that just about broke Harry's heart. He pulled her into an embrace and just held her close. Her tears were gone, her trembling stopped.

Harry realized that he had been trembling, too. He was just as scared as she was, just as upset at what had happened; he just was better at hiding his feelings. His life living with the Dursleys ensured that he had a good amount of control. They were strict about losses of emotional control.

"I know how you feel," he said as he held her close.

"Yeah," Hermione said in a weak voice. "But it doesn't make it easier."

"No, it doesn't."

* * *

On the other end of the hall, Faith's bedroom door opened to reveal a disheveled man, wrapping a sheet around his midsection. His back was sore and his bones creaked from being in positions they hadn't been in for days. Specifically, he was standing upright, something Faith had ensured he was not able to do easily - not that he was complaining, mind you. He thought he knew basically where the bathroom was, but he wasn't sure, as this was the first time in days that the woman who had picked him up in a bar had allowed him out of her room.

The first door was wrong, leading to a red silk covered bedroom. The second was also incorrect, leading to a messy room with a stuffed pig prominently placed on a bedside table. The third room, however, was right.

Unfortunately, it was occupied by a naked blonde woman tussling with a familiar dog.

"_Padfoot_?" the man asked. The woman suddenly realized she wasn't alone and screamed in rage first before leaping on him second.

Several people pounded up the stairs only to find a very excited dog jumping around a very naked Buffy on top of a very naked man, her hands around his throat.

"Damn, B," Faith said. "I know you're hard up, but I already called dibs."

Harry and Hermione showed up about then and got an eyeful. "Professor Lupin?"

"_My eyes!"_ Hermione said, trying to rub the sight of them out, all thoughts of her previous mood having vanished. The two students ran off to cleanse their minds of the sight.

"Harry? Hermione?" Remus asked from underneath Buffy. "Oh, bloody hell."


	9. Magic Fyarls and Green

**Magic, Fyarls, and Green**

* * *

_Thanks be to Greywizard for all the bountiful help._

* * *

Two sets of clothing later, introductions were made.

"Hello, I am Remus Lupin, former professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts," the man said with a slight wave. They had taken the whole thing down to the living room so everyone could have a seat.

"Yeah, the cutie was all moping into a beer when I came home, so I figured, H&H, might as well cheer him up," Faith said. "Different being with a younger guy, you know."

"I'm younger than you?" Remus said with complete disbelief.

"By like a decade, I'm guessing," Faith said. "'Side from Janie and Harry, you're the youngest one here."

"Even her?" Remus Lupin asked, pointing to Dawn. She sighed and pulled up her shirt, embarrassing the teens once more.

"See? Stretch marks!" she said. Turning to her husband, she sighed again. "Why doesn't anyone ever believe me that I'm Hermione's mother?"

"It's just that you're so devastatingly beautiful, the world can't imagine you ever changing," he said in a sappy tone that made most others in the room want to gag.

"And I'm Hermione's Auntie, Buffy Summers," the now clothed woman replied. "So I guess you know Padfoot?"

"Yes, Padfoot and I have known each other for a long time," he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, Remus is the one who gave him to Harry," Hermione lied, hoping to smooth some things over. She didn't want a funeral for Harry's godfather anytime soon, even if he did need some behavior training.

"Remus is an old friend of my parents," Harry said.

"Why are you a former teacher?" Tara asked. Lupin stammered and looked at the ground. Hermione rolled her eyes and blurted the truth.

"Because word got out that he's a werewolf," she said, earning a scandalized look from Harry and Remus.

"Oh, we know all about werewolves," Willow said with a sly smile.

"I'd think so, Red," Faith said with a chuckle. "Considering you were bumping uglies with one all through high school."

"No! Only once in high school," the redhead protested. "And I'll have you know there was no bumping of uglies, it was a very nice night."

"All in favor not hearing about my friends' sex lives, raise their hand?" Xander said. Giles, Hermione and Harry all raised their hands. Hedwig raised a wing. Crookshanks raised a paw. Padfoot seemed eager to learn more and wagged his tail.

"Wait, so you already knew about magic before your letter?" Harry asked, a little alarmed and shocked that his friend had never shared that.

"You're not alarmed that I'm a werewolf?" Lupin asked at the same time.

And that was when the drunken Fyarl demons broke down the front door. Before most people could blink, Faith and Buffy were both wielding swords while Xander was clutching his trusty axe in one hand and a rusty axe in the other.

Willow raised a hand and the air around the demons seemed to grab at their feet, pulling them down to the ground. She whispered something and crimson bands started constricting the demons across the chests and blocked their nasal passages until they passed out.

Harry turned to look at Hermione's parents. "You aren't really dentists, are you?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, after the unconscious demons were disposed of in a special scent-proof room dedicated to the task, there was a pounding on the door before explanations could take place.

"Open up! This is a report of underage magic in this location!" a man said from the other side. Willow rolled her eyes, opened the door wide and glanced at the intruders. Standing in the doorway were four people three men and a woman. The woman had bright pink spiky hair, but the others were wearing something that looked like a cross between dusters and nuns habits. Their leader had strangely buggy eyes. The woman looked like she was about to say something but the leader gave her a look and she shut up.

Willow sighed and waved her hands in front of them.

"We are not the droids you are looking for."

"You are not the droids we are looking for."

"You did not hear about underage magic here."

"We did not hear about underage magic here."

"We can go about our business."

"Go about your business."

And with that, Willow Rosenberg slammed the door shut. Shortly, there were three pops as the Ministry Officials teleported away. "There, that takes care of that problem."

Harry and Remus gaped at her. Padfoot's mouth was open so wide, that his tongue almost touched the floor.

"You're a witch?" Harry asked numbly.

She nodded smugly.

"So am I," said Tara. "And so is Dawn."

Dawn smirked at all of them.

Harry turned to Hermione. "I thought you said your parents were muggles?"

"I never actually _said_ that," she replied carefully. "I just didn't correct anyone."

"After everything they said about you? Even with Malfoy calling you a mudblood?" he whispered the last word, so the others could barely hear.

"I didn't even know that word until Ron explained it," Hermione said with a depressed sigh. "It was just easier to allow people to believe what they wanted to believe."

"Then why'd you tell us your parents were dentists?" Harry asked, still confused. "Why'd you lie to me?"

The silence after that statement was heavy and hung like thick fog in the London mornings.

"You two probably need to talk, so why don't you go into the living room and sort things out," Xander said, pushing them through the door. He gently shut it behind the two teens. He turned back to the others. "Now, I just happen to have a bottle of Johnny Walker Green that will let us mellow out and have a discussion."

"Green?" Willow asked. "I didn't know they made it in green."

"Yes. Yes, they do," Faith said with a wide grin, sitting down and throwing an arm over her boy toy's shoulder.

"Xander, I do feel the need to criticize slightly," Giles stated. "You're in the British Isles where Scotch and Whiskey were born. Why did you choose such a... thing?"

"It's green," Xander replied as if it explained everything. Xander served it up and passed the glasses around.

"So," Buffy said, looking at Remus. "What's your first question?"

"Who are you people really?"

"Buffy Summers," said Buffy.

"Willow Rosenberg," said Willow.

"Tara Maclay," said Tara.

"Xander Harris-Granger," said Xander.

"Dawn Summers," said Dawn.

"Rupert Giles," said Giles.

"Faith Lehane," said Faith.

"And together we are — dun, dun, DUN—the Scooby Gang!" Xander said as they all posed like a 60s spy movie poster. "I wanted us to be Xander Harris and his Howling Commandos, but I was outvoted."

Remus caught the amused smirks they wore and went back to ask another question. "Or rather, what are you? And what do you do?"

"Faith and I are Slayers," Buffy said, "women Chosen to fight the Vampires, Demons and the Forces of Darkness."

"Fascinating," Remus said. "And what does this entail?"

"Super strength, speed, super stamina, flexibility," Buffy replied, ticking them off on her fingers.

"-In bed," finished Faith with a lecherous smirk. The others groaned.

"Well, seeing as I have firsthand experience of that, I must say I am quite appreciative," Remus commented with a lecherous smirk of his own shooting back at Faith. She was half temped to jump him again right in front of everybody. Remus, on the other hand, actually _had_ inhibitions about having sex in front of people he didn't know, and quickly changed the subject.

"And you?" he asked, glancing at Willow and Tara.

"Wiccan," Willow said, "sometimes called witches. We use magic, but not like you stick guys."

"They are wands, thank you very much," he said with faux haughtiness.

"What about you and Dawn? You're Hermione's parents, am I correct?" the werewolf asked.

"I'm a witch as well, but I've got some other things in my favor," she replied. "But those are _a secret!_" she added with a playful wag of her finger.

"I'm just a carpenter with a big scary axe," Xander said. "And a very stylish eye patch."

"Yes, I can see," Remus appreciated. "I thought of getting one myself, but I thought it would clash with my shirt."

Xander clapped him on the back. "You know, I think you might just fit in around here," he said.

"At least I'm welcome somewhere," he grumbled. Looking back up at them, he raised a hand. "Sorry, I'm still bitter about losing my job."

"Understandable," Giles said. "I know that the last time I was sacked, I hardly took it well, especially when they replaced me with that prat."

"Wesley turned into a nice guy," Willow pointed out. "Well, moderately."

"Only because he was sacked, himself," Giles countered. Remus smiled. "What is it?"

"No, sorry, I just haven't had a conversation like this since, well, since it all fell apart," Remus admitted.

"Like what?"

"A friendly conversation, being accepted and free to talk," he admitted. "Now if only my damned friend would hurry up and clear his name, all would be fine."

No one noticed Padfoot pouting in the corner.

Before anything else could happen, another knock came at the door. Opening it up once more, Willow looked at the man on the other side. She did note that he was dressed in the same style of the woman who had been there earlier.

"Uh, hello," he said. "I'd, I'd like to talk to Buffy Summers, please?"

"Buffy, it's for you!" Willow called out, slipping back into the living room while Buffy bounced back out to the door.

* * *

When Buffy got there, she realized it was the man she'd given her number to the day before. "Oh, Tonks, I wasn't expecting you," she said as she stepped to the side to see if he could get in on his own. He could and she motioned for him to join her in the dining room.

"Thanks, I know I didn't call, but I thought…" he trailed off as if he was trying to figure out how to bring something up.

"I'm glad you stopped by anyways," Buffy said, slipping into the seat next to him. She was maybe sitting a bit closer than she normally would with someone she'd just met. "Did you get your stick fixed?"

"My stick? Oh, my wand, yes," he said. "Miss Summers there's-"

"Buffy, you can call me Buffy," she said, cutting him off. "Did you bring those security plans like I'd asked?"

"I was going to, but I-"

"Oh, fooie, we really need them. The paper's been in our house and taking pictures of Hermione's room," Buffy told him.

"Oh, that's not good," he said, genuinely surprised and annoyed. His brow furrowed in thought. "That's not good."

"No, it's not," Buffy said.

"I've been doing the paperwork so it will be a couple of days at least, but-"

"It's okay, we just want someone here to make things safer," Buffy said, taking his hand in hers. Tonks was starting to sweat. This conversation was not going the way she expected it to.

"Well, I'll see if I can do a little more," Tonks said, not quite sure if he wanted to remove the hand from hers. (S)He didn't want to make her upset, after all. "I can at least stay tonight to keep an eye out. There are rules about putting wards up on muggle houses."

Buffy huffed. It was clear that she didn't want to hear that.

"I'm sorry," Tonks said honestly, "but sometimes it seems your house could be filled with Death Eaters and I couldn't even cast a protection charm without filling out a 27b/6... Bloody paperwork."

"Humph, tell me about it," Buffy grumbled.

"I can probably have the paperwork by Thursday," Tonks said.

"Great! You can meet me at Hans' Pub and Eats," Buffy said. "It's a quiet place, but it's nice."

"Uh, okay," Tonks said, a little confused.

"Great, so I'll let you look things over with Xander here and I'll see you on Thursday."

"Sure, I suppose," Tonks said, still a little stunned.

"It's a date!"

Hours later, after reviewing the security of the house with Hermione's Father (who was a scary muggle man, but she wasn't about to tell him that), Tonks mad her way out of the house, shifting back into her normal form.

"Oh Merlin!" she exclaimed. "I just agreed to another date didn't I? So much for telling her about the whole metamorphmagus thing. I'll just have to tell her Thursday. Hope she isn't too surprised."

* * *

Upstairs, Harry and Hermione were having a similar conversation about what was and wasn't in the Granger family. It was met primarily by confusion.

"Wait, so your folks are these near legendary demon fighters who retired from their jobs and since your mom got pregnant with you, they've lived here?"

"Or something close to it." Hermione admitted. "They won't tell me the details until I'm older. Or at least, that's their excuse."

"Huh," he said quietly as he stared off into space. "I guess this does explain the train ride."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't have any of the amazement about magic that the other muggleborns or muggle-raised half-bloods did," Harry replied, thinking about her fixing his glasses that first day. "You'd already tried out spells and cast a second year spell when we'd barely got out of the station!"

"Sorry, it, well, magic was just one of those things," Hermione said with a slight blush as she brushed her hair behind her ear. It wasn't as bushy as it was that first year, but it still had some impressive volume. "I grew up with it and it wasn't that much different from reading or using the computer. Just one more thing that set me apart from my peers. It didn't help that I had buckteeth and hair that frizzed all over the place."

"But, you grew into both pretty well," Harry said, not even realizing the words had come out of his mouth. She blushed appreciatively and tucked a few more stray locks behind her ear.

"But when I got invited to Hogwarts," she said, pushing the subject along. She stretched out her legs and reached out with her arms, but she wasn't really looking at anything in particular as she reminisced. "Oh, I wasn't thinking straight. I thought there would be people like me. I did all my reading. I practiced my spells and even got a wand." She smiled slightly at the memory. "Faith teased me plenty for playing with my wand. I didn't really get it then – back then I just knew she was teasing me. Now, I'm starting to get all her dirty jokes."

"But you were friends with me and Ron, you could have told us," Harry argued.

"I don't think Ron would understand me being able to do things 'no one' is supposed to be able to do," she countered. She smiled wistfully at the concept of Ron trying to wrap his mind around magic users that had no connection to the Wizarding World. "He's too… well, 'self-centered' isn't exactly what I want to say, but it's not far off."

"I wonder what he's doing right now?" Harry pondered.

"Please don't bring that up? I'm having flashbacks to Chudley Cannon - well, not conversations, because that implies that I was an equal participant and not just a wall to bounce statements off of," Hermione said. She shrugged at Harry's confused look. "He can't stop, Harry. Chudley Cannons, Chudley Cannons, Chudley Cannons. He just won't stop."

"...I know." Harry sighed. "I know."

* * *

**Next time:** Dawn and Xander register a complaint!

* * *

There was a super-secret awesome movie reference in this chapter if people caught it. Those who mention it earn a no-prize in Dire Squirrely form.


	10. Complaints, Bad Dog and Reporters

.

**Complaints, Bad Dog and Reporters**

.

**

* * *

**

_._

_Thanks again GreyWizard_

_.  
_

* * *

"Padfoot," Remus Lupin said a couple of days later. "Why don't you change, so we can have a talk about your behavior?"

The dog-wizard looked up at his old friend in his best mindless dog impression, but the look on the werewolf's face was not very positive. With a canine sigh, Padfoot listened for people nearby and then shifted into his human form.

"I know that tone," Sirius said dejectedly. "I don't like that tone."

"I thought you might remember this tone," Remus agreed. "Lily used it when she found out about a certain incident involving me, you, James, a full moon and a certain Slytherin. And that was years after the event occurred."

"But… but why are you using it now?" Sirius asked, clearly confused.

"We need to talk about your behavior with a certain blonde."

"Sally Greengrass?"

"No."

"Cousin Cissy?"

"Hardly."

"Marilyn Monroe?"

"You were three when she died."

"Amelia Bones?"

"Not even remotely. And she's more of a redhead."

"Lucius Malfoy?"

"Have you gone _completely _round the bend?"

"Elizabeth Brocklemyre?"

"I don't even know who that is," Remus replied honestly. "No, I was talking about the esteemed Ms. Buffy Summers."

"Oh," Sirius said in sudden understanding. From his friend's tone, Sirius suspected he might have done something wrong.

"'Oh' **indeed**," said a familiar voice. Sirius quickly spun to see the risen shade of Lily Potter looking at him from the risen ashes of a smoking candle.

"Oh Merlin! Remus! _Please_ tell me you didn't raise up Lily's spirit?"

"I'm afraid I didn't have any choice," Remus admitted. "You pushed my hand. You're my oldest remaining friend, and if you're going to do those things to a woman who can bend steel bars with her bare hands… well, if your morality and sense of social propriety won't do it, your sense of self preservation might get you to act properly."

"But it was just a prank!" Sirius protested, glancing between Lily's shade and the saddened Mr. Lupin.

"Just a _**prank?**_" asked Lily's shade in an acerbic tone.

He knew that tone. That was the tone she used when _James_ got caught in a prank, _after_ they started dating. This was bad.

**VERY** bad.

"Why don't I let you two have some time to catch up?" Remus suggested as he quickly stepped out the door, closing and magically locking it behind him.

"Now, Mr. Sirius Orion Black, we need to have another talk about proper behavior," Lily's shade said flatly.

Sirius Black, thoroughly intimidated by the formidable woman's shade, crawled backwards into a corner and cowered until the spell finished some five hours later.

* * *

**The Next Day:**

"Why won't Padfoot take a bath with me today?" Buffy asked at breakfast. Even Remus was joining them that morning. Dawn and Xander had gone early to take care of some… business in Diagon Alley involving a certain newspaper. "Every time he sees me, he just runs away as fast as he can."

"Heightened survival instinct," Remus muttered to himself over his coffee.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, not sure what he just said.

"Nothing. Just thinking about an old friend." Remus paused in thought. "Wouldn't hurt him to actually apologize this time."

Faith shot him a questioning look.

"Nothing, nothing."

* * *

"We would like to register a complaint."

The front desk attendant for the Daily Prophet looked up to see two obvious muggles standing over her.

"How did you people even get in here?"

"We would like to register a complaint," repeated the woman. The front desk attendant thought she might have seen green flash in the woman's eyes, but decided it must have been her imagination. After all, they were just muggles.

"Muggles aren't allowed in Diagon Alley," she said snootily. "I've contacted the Aurors."

"You really might want to respond favorably to what my wife has to say," the one-eyed man said in a voice laced with basilisk venom. He then casually set an axe down that he had been carrying on his shoulder. The head stuck deeply into the wooden desk.

The attendant stared at the axe like it was Voldemort itself.

"You can't do that," she said. "The desk is enchanted against damage."

"Oh, really?" he asked, before taking the axe out and chopping a good chunk from the edge. He frowned and shook his head. "Seems like you need to get your money back."

"B-b-but!"

"We'd like to register a complaint," the woman said again, this time flashing a smile that would make Jaws swim away in fear.

"Right through there," the attendant pointed to a door that magically appeared.

"Thank you."

As soon as they were gone, the aurors and obliviators arrived. The woman simply pointed to the door.

As soon as they went through the door, the attendant heard a brief tussle that consisted of blunt impacts, wood snapping, bones breaking and a small explosion. A moment or two, the young couple stepped back out of the broom closet (looking none the worse for wear), walked over to her desk and leaned in so close she could feel their breath on her face. She reached for her wand, but the woman caught her gaze.

"We'd like to register a complaint," the woman said again in a rather friendly tone.

_This_ time the attendant waved for the correct door to open.

* * *

Two hours later, Minister Cornelius Fudge looked out his office window to see a number of flashes of light in a wide variety of colors coming from the Daily Prophet building. Enjoying his lunch, he shrugged.

"Must be celebrating good sales," he pondered.

* * *

**Next time:** Axing Questions

Sorry, just a short one, but there will be more soon enough.


	11. Hans, Ja, and Karpathian Blood Beer

**Hans, Ja, and Karpathian Blood Beer**

* * *

Thanks again, GreyWizard!

* * *

"Later, guys, got to go to my date," Buffy said as she slipped on some earrings. She was dressing conservatively – at least in comparison to how she usually did – in a blue blazer with a slim miniskirt that reached about 80% of the way down her thighs. Conservative heels made her seem a little taller, but not so much that the height difference was extreme. Thursday had finally arrived and she was determined to make it a success.

"Date?" Hermione asked.

"With Tonks," Buffy clarified.

"I thought you were just talking about security," Harry said.

"It's a _date_," Buffy growled through gritted teeth before storming out of the room.

"Did I say something wrong?" Harry asked as soon as she was gone. He glanced to his quasi-In-Laws for clarification.

"Aunt Buffy has miraculously bad luck with men," Hermione said, taking pity on her fiance. "She just didn't want to jinx it before it began."

"Bad luck?"

"About 90% of her significant others try to eventually kill her or us," Dawn said. Harry's eyes went wide.

"Really?" Harry said, thinking back to what he and Xander had talked about the night before.

"Really," mother and daughter replied flatly.

"Best of luck to her, then," Harry said honestly. "Let's get that lucky 10%."

Padfoot, listening in, suddenly remembered something about his family tree. The only Tonks-es he knew were…

Oh, _this_ was going to be _fun_.

* * *

The bar, Hans' Pub and Eats, was quiet, low lit, smoke free and friendly. Buffy had been there before and had liked it. She especially like the anti-violence spells because, this way, her dates couldn't try to kill her. On the other hand, she wasn't able to kill them if her dates turned evil, but fortunately, there were plenty of dark alleys nearby to drag them into for a little hack and slash, if things got icky.

The place was run by a German beer demon who always managed to get the best stuff from all over the world. Buffy ordered a Guinness and waited for her date. Buffy kept glancing at the door and the clock. She'd gotten there early, but not _that_ early, and it was almost time.

The expected time came and went. The clock ticked past by fifteen minutes, a half hour and then forty-five minutes. At fifty-three minutes late, Tonks walked through the door. He looked hurried, his shoulders broad in his coat and stood up straight with perfect posture. He saw Buffy and waved. The Auror started over, slightly tripping over a stool before making his way to her booth.

"Sorry I'm late," Tonks told her. "There was an… incident with a fire and they forced me to do some extra paperwork. I tried to leave a note at your home, but your house isn't connected to the floo network and I didn't think an owl would get there fast enough. I hope you weren't waiting too long?"

Buffy smiled fakely. "No, not too long."

"Oh, good," Tonks said, seeming a little nervous. "uh, what's good here?"

Buffy leaned back in her chair and waved to get the bar-demon's attention. "Hans, two specials please?"

"Ja," said Hans before lumbering into the kitchen. Tonks noticed that his joints didn't seem to work in the exactly right way.

"The specials are always different, but usually really good," Buffy said.

"Oh, thanks," Tonks said looking down at his plate. "Maybe I should get something to drink?"

"A specialty beer comes with the meal. He'll pick one out that fits," Buffy said. "You look nervous."

"Well, I, er… I don't date much," Tonks said. "And… well it shows a little. Right now. And well, there's something that I need to tel-"

"Oh good, you _did_ think this was a date," Buffy said with a relieved sigh. Tonks looked at her a little funny, having been interrupted once more.

"Sorry," Buffy apologized, "just something Harry said. Not a big deal."

Hans deposited a beer glass in front of Tonks. The liquid was thick, dark and had a good head. The auror took a sip and it was like ambrosia.

"Karpathian blood beer?" Buffy asked him.

"Ja," said Hans before heading back to the bar. Buffy leaned in close to Tonks and grinned.

"That's the only word I've ever heard him say," she whispered.

Tonks couldn't help but laugh at that.

Soon, the food came and they started talking. They talked about many things, not only about security for the house.

"So, Buffy, what do you do for work?" Tonks asked.

"I'm, well, think of me as an independent contractor for a global firm," Buffy said. "I'm one of the girls they send in when things are about to go horribly wrong."

"So you're the axe gal?"

"Only sometimes," Buffy said with a grin. "Usually, I carry a sword and a stake to get the point in."

As Buffy dates went, this went well.

However, as Buffy dates went, it was also rather predictable. The beer kept flowing and since it was really, _really _good beer, they kept drinking. Now, a peculiar thing about Slayers is that their metabolism is special. They can metabolize alcohol pretty fast for the most part, but they're still affected by any magical signatures in what they drink, allowing potions and the like to affect them greatly. Cave-Buffy was a good example of this. Now, for the rest of the night, the two of them drank demon beer, magic demon beer. Buffy, while physically sound, was mentally rather loopy and eventually blacked out.

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke up early, as he usually did, managed to avoid waking his fiancée, and made his way into the bathroom. He had learned early on that it was a good idea to get certain things out of the way early, a lesson the other two men in the house had quickly passed on. Teeth scrubbed, face washed and body cleaned, Harry stepped out of the bath and made his way back to the room. On his way he found a suspicious looking shirt announcing the wearer's dedication to the Wyrd Sisters, a wizarding band. He was pretty sure that Hermione wasn't a fan. Soon, he found another piece of clothing, something he was quite sure was witch underwear, even if he wasn't supposed to know such things. Then he found Buffy's blazer and skirt.

Content that he had already suffered from Too Much Information, Harry slipped back into his and Hermione's room, got dressed, and quickly slide downstairs to start making breakfast.

* * *

Buffy Summers, the Thrice Dead Slayer, awoke to birds chirping outside her window and sun streaming down upon her. She felt relaxed and stretched in a way that she hadn't felt in a really long time. She didn't really remember exactly what had happened the previous night, but she was pretty sure it had been good.

She felt the warmth of another body pressed up against her. As much as the slayer was slightly miffed at herself for getting into such a situation on the first date, she hoped that Tonks wouldn't hold it against her. Or, judging by the way she felt, maybe she'd really like Tonks to hold it against her, or in her, over and over and over again. She reached down to rub her sleeping partner on the back and received a pleased, sleepy moan.

Then her partner rolled over to reveal a beautiful woman with pert breasts of realistic, yet subtlely larger girth for her frame, spiky pink hair (which was apparently her real hair color) and _legs_. She also had scratch marks all over her back. A little concerned about her feeble memory of the previous night's activities, Buffy held out her hand for comparison and sure enough, the partially healed gouges were spaced perfectly for the blonde slayer's hand and nails.

"Oh, fooie," Buffy said to no one in particular.

Next was the question of what to do. On one hand, Buffy had clearly brought the girl back and had, by observation of the evidence, wonderful, passionate sex - kinky even. On the other hand, she had no idea who this woman was or any memory of what they did the previous night. Before she could answer or even further ponder the question, the woman stretched in the sunlight.

"Murgh," the girl mumbled as she stretched in bed. "Last night was amazing."

Buffy didn't say anything. This was primarily because she didn't know what to say. The girl opened her eyes and looked at Buffy with a stunning smile and pulled the blonde into a deep morning after kiss. Buffy had to admit that it felt really, really good. Then the girl seemed to suddenly realize something.

"Uh," Buffy said.

"Yeah, Buff?" the girl said. At least the girl knew _her_ name. Buffy hadn't the slightest idea who the fetching lass in bed with her was.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked, letting her eyes trail down her partner's naked form.

"Oh, I've really bollixed this one up," the girl said looking at her definitely feminine body. "Bloody Merlin, I transformed in my sleep again." Her hair turned bright purple and then shifted back to pink. "You know, I usually don't do this on the first date."

"Neither do I," Buffy said. "So, who?"

"Uh, Hi," said the girl. "I'm Tonks."

"Tonks - as in the guy I had a date with last night, Tonks?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, that'd be me," Tonks replied, self consciously pulling a sheet up to her neck. With an embarrassed squeak from her lips, she shifted into the male form Buffy was familiar with, and then back into her usual pink haired female form. "I guess I should have told you I'm a metamorphmagus before, but you kept interrupting me every time I tried to tell you. Not an excuse, I know. Then we were pissed and you stuck your tongue down my throat to try to tickle my belly button from the inside. Then we came back here."

"So, are you male or female," Buffy asked.

"This be my real form," Tonks answered worriedly. "You know, you're the first woman I've been with. I-I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but do you think, you know, that maybe we could go a little slower? I'm usually not this kind of girl."

"Uh," Buffy said intelligently. "I'm usually not this kind of girl, either."

They paused.

"Slower is good."

"Good."

"Good."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Want to go again?" Buffy asked.

"I thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

Hermione woke up to hear unfortunately familiar sounds coming from a nearby bedroom.

"Why is Faith in Buffy's room?"

* * *

**Next Time:** Aggressive Family interrogations!


	12. Conversation, Breakfast, And Love Life

**Conversation, Breakfast, and Buffy's love life**

* * *

"So what are we doing with the Daily Prophet?" Xander asked his wife as they ate breakfast. "Aside from lodging our previous complaint."

Xander took another bite and realized that if Harry could cook this well, Xander was half wishing to marry him. The one-eyed man pointed to his plate. "Good."

"Oh yeah," Dawn said. "He's a keeper alright."

"This even tickles your mad, crazy, funky taste buds?" Xander asked, raising an eyebrow at his wife's reaction to the delectable deliciousness on the plates before them.

"He could be a chef if he wanted to," Dawn said with an appreciative nod. "Hell, he could be _MY_ chef if he wanted to."

"Thanks, but I'm still aiming for Wizard," Harry said, setting a casserole into the oven for lunch. The suddenness of his appearance made the two adults jump up in surprise.

"We're going to have a party next week on the 31st," Dawn said, shaking herself out of her normal reaction to surprise. There wasn't any real reason to put a stake in Harry's heart after all. "Is there anyone you guys would like to invite?"

"Why's the 31st so special?" Harry asked. Xander and Dawn looked at the British boy with bemused smiles. "Oh, right, my birthday. Sorry, I forgot."

"I'd like to invite Ron and his family," Hermione said. "His dad has been bugging me to introduce him to my 'muggle' parents for a while now."

"But your parents aren't muggles, not really," Harry pointed out.

"But they don't know that," Hermione replied.

"Point."

"How about you?"

"Oh, Ron certainly, but maybe Dumbledore and McGonagall? Neville maybe? Dean said he'd be gone all summer, but I don't know about anybody else," Harry said.

"What about your godfather?" Dawn asked. She silently noted the teens' shaken looks at her suggestion.

"Uh, no, he's on the run," Harry said. "Joining us for a party could be bad."

"He should blame it on a one armed man," Xander said. "Then he could be played by Harrison Ford."

"You and your Harrison Ford man-crush," Dawn said with a roll of her eyes.

"He played my two most favorite characters ever! How can I _not_ have a man-crush on the man?" Xander protested. "That's like not bowing before Bogart as an idol of the Deity of the Silver Screen. Like not worshipping Hepburn as a Goddess of Celuloid."

"Audrey or Katharine?"

"Yes."

"Never mind," Dawn said with a slight smile as she deftfully changed the subject like a true master of the art. "I think the most important thing is catching the Skeeter woman and her photographer in the act. Which means we need to put cameras up, as well as improved wards."

"Not a big fan of having cameras in my daughter's bedroom," Xander said.

"I second that," Hermione said. Harry just nodded in agreement.

"Not in the room, just outside," Dawn said.

"Wouldn't work," Hermione pointed out. "Now that they know where it is, they can just apparate in. Maybe Buffy can get her boyfriend to ward the house to prevent that."

"I'll make a mental note of it," Dawn said as she took another bite. It was _good_.

"What if your mother and I just switch rooms with you two?" Xander asked. "That way you don't have to worry about people just popping in unannounced and we can have a trap waiting for them?"

"I think that's a much better idea," Hermione said. "Sorry, Mum, but a peepshow of any kind is not my thing."

"Not what I was intending, but I see your point," Dawn said. She took a sip of coffee and looked up just in time to see Faith, bags packed, hauling a bound and gagged Remus Lupin out over her shoulder. He seemed to be trying to escape.

"Faith!"

"What?" the woman asked as if she wasn't doing anything wrong.

"You can't just haul him around like a piece of luggage!" Dawn commanded.

"Well, I said we'd go see Oz, but my boy toy decided it wasn't safe for me and got all depressed and mopey. So I shut him up for his own good and mine," Faith said. "It's also a lot of fun. I never thought I'd actually use that book of knots Red bought me, but hey, it's just what I needed."

"Murmurph! Murmur-_murmur_-murmur!" said Remus from over her shoulder with a shake. Faith tapped him on the bum to shut him up.

"_Quiet you!_ This is for your own good," she said. It seemed to have the desired effect, or else the werewolf just kinda gave up. Werewolf strength just didn't compare to Slayer strength when it wasn't that time of the month. Turning back to her family, Faith grinned. "We'll be back some time the middle of August; should be long enough for stupid-depression-boy here to get the basic primer from the Oz-man."

"We'll see you then," Harry said. Over Faith's shoulder, Remus gave him a betrayed look. Harry shrugged innocently. "Remus, bring me back something from Tibet!"

"Don't worry," Faith said. "I know the perfect gift from the Sub-Continent."

"Faith, you will _**NOT**_ be giving my thirteen year old future son-in-law a copy of the Kama Sutra," Dawn said with a look that compared favorably to Willow's Resolve Face. The woman in question chose to roll her eyes and step out the door. Faith snerked and chuckled.

"Oh, come on, Dawnie," Faith said as she left. "You're _never _any fun these days!"

"What's the Kama Sutra?" Harry asked, truly innocent as he munched on a cracker.

Dawn slumped back down in her seat. "This is not going to end well."

"So, if they were packing, why was Faith in Buffy's room this morning?" Hermione asked.

"She wasn't," Harry said. "She had her door open when I came down to cook. I guess Buffy just decided to get undressed in the hallway and didn't clean up after herself. It's funny, I never took her for a Wyrd Sisters fan."

"Uh, she's not," Hermione said. "Aunt Buffy's still the bubblegum-pop kind of girl."

"Then why does she have one of their t-shirts?" Harry asked. He glanced slightly at the adults before he leaned in close to his fiancée to whisper in her ear. "Why is your father grinning like that and your mother scowling like that?"

"I'd say because Mum gave Buffy the benefit of the doubt and bet her sister would be responsible on her first date with Tonks," Hermione said. "Dad probably bet it was going to turn into a ball of flames akin to the one that killed the dinosaurs."

"Not there yet, Honeybunch," Xander said. "No one's lost a soul or a lot of blood, so it's pretty tame considering the long line of Buffy Relationship Failures. Harry, if you ever want to know how _not_ to have a relationship, ask to be regaled of the many tragedies of Buffy Summers' Loves. There's a lesson for everyone."

"Stop making fun of my sister's love life," Dawn said.

"Or lack thereof," Hermione put in, taking a sip of tea.

"Cheeky, real cheeky," Dawn said.

"And yet miraculously true," Giles said as he sat down to eat. He took a bite and sat up straight. "This is wonderful, Harry."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, beaming.

"You are quite welcome," Giles replied. "But as I was saying, someone should have a talk with the poor girl. Although I do believe this is the first time since Parker that she's slept with a man on the first date."

"I'm still amazed that you people talk about these things over breakfast," Harry said as he put a plate of sausage and eggs on the floor for Padfoot, who contentedly gobbled up the offerings.

"Gossip is the first form of societal control," Giles intoned. "If it weren't shared, society would simply fall apart."

"And we bow before your wisdom, great one," Xander said. "So, I think it's Dawn's turn to chew out Buffy for taking steps to prevent herself from being happy."

"Nuh-huh," Dawn protested. "Last time, that got me thrown in the pool in January."

"But it's June, so the water's wonderful this time of year," Xander said with a grin.

"So, she does this often?" Harry asked. Chuckles abounded.

"Let's see here," Dawn said, ticking them off on her fingers. "Number one: Pike, bad boy with a motorcycle; number two: Angel, bad boy sexy creature of the night vamp-with-a-soul who turned into Angelus not-so-sexy psychopathic vamp-without-a-soul; Number Three: Parker, a complete ass of an upperclassman with no redeemable qualities; Number Four: Riley, drugged up would-be supersoldier with an inferiority complex; Number Five: Spike, practically my big brother, but she used him like a walking dildo and trampled all over his feelings."

"What's a dildo?" asked Harry, prompting nearly everyone else to break into laughter. Hermione went red in the face and leaned over.

"I'll tell you later," she hissed quietly in her scandalized blush.

"Honey, you forgot the part where Spike had no soul and almost raped your sister," Xander put in darkly.

"He did _**what?**_" Harry and Hermione asked. They were both positively scandalized; Hermione for learning a tidbit about "Uncle" Spike that she never knew before and rather wished she had never heard; and Harry for learning that horrifying tidbit about Buffy's past.

"It was before he got his soul back," Dawn said. "He'd never do that now. That was partly our fault because we all assumed that since he couldn't hurt humans that he wasn't dangerous or evil. Even evil people can love. And he was chipped, not neutered."

"And even I admit that he got better after that problem in LA," Giles said, raising a cup of tea to symbolize his mistake. Dawn nodded in acknowledgment before continuing on.

"And Number Six: Satsuki, a lovely little Japanese girl who was head over heels in love with my dear sister. Buffy used the poor girl like a Real Doll or hugging pillow. She deserved better than that," Dawn said between bites of Harry's delightful breakfast. "That about brings us up to date on the little hurl-a-whirl of Buffy's love-life, ignoring the long string of failed dates she's had since then." She fixed her gaze on Harry. "My sister is an idiot when it comes to picking partners. She has this miraculous ability to fall for people who are going to be quickly in conflict with us."

"Why does she do it?" Hermione and Harry asked in unison. They looked at each other in surprise for a moment before just turning their attention back to the adults in the room.

"I don't think that _she_ thinks _she_ deserves to be happy," Willow said as she slid into the seat beside her oldest friend. "So, she goes out of her way to make herself have short-term happiness and long term angst when things fall apart."

"Well, she never tries to be friends with anyone she's dating," Dawn reminded her. "It was just a few weeks between having Riley as a TA and them having a horizontal luau minus the coconut bra and grass skirts. She doesn't even try to get to know them, she just figures they'll shift to be whatever she needs. She doesn't understand that not everybody can simply change themselves to what she thinks she wants at a certain time."

"Oh," Harry said. "So you think being friends is important in a love life?"

"Well, yes," Xander said. "Dawn and I knew each other for years before she tracked me down in Africa, shot me with a tranq gun, tied me up and had her way with me. But we're still friends even if we're in love and happily married."

"I'd be more happily married if you'd finally fix that third step on the back staircase," Dawn put in with a smile.

"Yes, Dear," Xander said with a smirk, which earned him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Huh," Harry said, obviously thinking the relationship bit over.

Hermione, as usual, was lost in her own thoughts about the situation. Then her ears caught a few musical bars playing on the wind. "What's that noise?"

All over the Scooby Headquarters, heads perked up as strands of Barry White started filling the room. "_The first, my last,"_ the voice said. "_My everything!"_

The familiar baseline had people on their feet and dancing, or in Hermione's case, blushing and rolling her eyes in embarrassment at her parents' actions.

"Uh, the radio isn't on," Harry announced before he noticed a most hideous sight. "Oh, dear lord!"

Everyone knew that tone. It was the tone Giles used when he found damning evidence of the next apocalypse. Same words too, come to think of it. In this case, Harry wasn't far off. Heads turned to follow his gaze and were struck dumb.

Hedwig and Crookshanks were making lovey-dovey eyes at each other. Soon, it was quite apparent that Hermione's cat/kneasle cross was "in the mood." It was also horrifyingly apparent that Hedwig held similar interest in the feline. Like watching a train wreck in slow motion, the occupants of the Scooby Mansion stared at the mating ritual from creepy-psycho-bizzaro land.

Tara walked in on the horrific sight and paused.

"That is…" Tara trailed off.

"I know, it's…" Willow said. Both Witches cocked their heads for a better look.

"How is that even possible?"

* * *

Romilda Vane was not a tolerant girl. She knew what she wanted and she was willing to do just about anything to get it. In this particular instance, she wanted Harry Potter. Or rather, she wanted the Boy-Who-Lived, and that was a fine distinction – which, to her, didn't make all that much of a difference.

Needless to say, when said boy had proposed to Hermione Granger, the young Gryffindor was less than pleased. She reacted rather poorly to the news. While she was rather smart, excelling at potions and certain other groups, she was another classic case of someone with a moderate to high intelligence score, and a rather low wisdom score. Her subsequent actions were not a particularly large surprise.

Going through her mother's "special" books, Romilda finally found what she was looking for: a love spell. It was a long one, an incantation to the Roman deity of Love, Venus. Of course, there three distinct problems with this:

One: Romilda was not very proficient in Latin;

Two: it was poorly translated into Latin from the original Greek;

And three: she didn't have the right ingredients.

The mistranslation made it seem like the ritual would break up a couple. The original made it clear that it brought destined partners together, allowing them to overcome any barriers between their union. Of course, knowing Miss Vane, she probably would have still done it, believing she was Harry's destined partner.

The spell required a long incantation, a messy sacrifice (she was using a gnome she found in the garden) and bits belonging to the targets. Romilda got these mixed up. Ironically, it was very similar to a mistake the target of her antipathy had done about a year before: mistaking an owner for the pet. However, Romilda only thought she needed something that belonged to the targets, while in the original Greek, it expressly stated that it had to be a **part** of them.

And so, Romilda spoke the incantation while brewing the potion, dropping a feather of Hedwig and a scruff of orange Crookshanks fur. As she finished, the room turned a bright golden hew, informing the caster that it was acceptable to the Goddess.

* * *

Far away atop Mount Olympus, Aphrodite and Hermes were relaxing and sharing a few Karpathian blood beers. Hermes turned to the Goddess of Love and smiled.

"It's about time!" he said.

"I _know!_ I thought they'd _never_ get together!"

* * *

Months later, the Scoobies' horror would only grow when the twenty three eggs in Hedwig's nest hatched. Some things just weren't meant to be. These abominations were cute at least. Cat bodies with tufts of golden fur, owl wings and heads with tiny owl talons for hands and feet all covered in snowy owl down. Their voices were a strange blend of hoots, mews and purrs. Harry turned to Hermione.

"At least they got Hedwig's looks," her fiancé said with a sigh of relief.

"You'd better hope they got Crookshanks' brains!" she protested hotly.

"Don't make fun of my Hedwig that way," Harry protested, hugging the owl close. Hermione huffed.

"I might remind you that it was Crookshanks who identified Scabbers, not Hedwig," Hermione stated haughtily. "Both had considerable amount of time with the rat."

"Children," Giles said with a cleaning of the glasses. "Perhaps we can discuss the intelligence of crimes-against-nature at a later date? Some of us happen to be late to work."

* * *

Thanks be to GreyWizard once more for all thy editing and reading assistance!

* * *

**_Next Time:_** Tonks meets the Family and gets an offer she can't refuse!


	13. Talks, Tonks, and Reporters

**Talks, Tonks, and Reporters**

* * *

Thanks again GreyWizard!

* * *

It was late afternoon, nearly evening, when Buffy and Tonks got ready to leave the room. The door creaked open to reveal a rather displeased Ms. Summers standing in the hallway, tapping her foot on the floor. For one horrified moment, Buffy thought she was looking at her mother, rather than her sister.

"Dawnie?" Buffy asked.

"Buffy, I expect this behavior from Faith, but I thought better of you," the younger Summers woman said somewhat acerbically. Buffy and her lover both blushed deeply as Buffy pulled the covers up higher to her neck. Her partner's hair also blushed. Dawn raised an eyebrow at that action.

"I-uh-I want you to meet Tonks," Buffy said clumsily, motioning to the pink haired young lady beside her. "Uh, Tonks, this is my little sister."

"Yes, I _am _her sister," Dawn said. "I'm _also _the owner of the house."

"Sorry," Buffy said, looking at her feet and squirming like a little kid that just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Dawn huffed at her sister and turned to smile at the young woman.

"Tonks, it's wonderful to meet you," Dawn said. "Right now, you're going to join us for dinner, so we can discuss some things."

"I am?" asked Tonks, surprised. Dawn squinted in just the same way Joyce Summers did when she transformed into She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed.

"You are."

With that, Dawn Summers spun on her heels and marched down to the dining room, sitting down in the chair at the head of the table. Tonks followed, clearly unsure of why she was getting this reaction. She suspected it might be part of that whole homophobia thing, but it seemed like there was something more going on.

Tonks slid into one of the two empty seats, this one next to Harry Potter. Buffy sat opposite her, next to Hermione.

"Everyone, this is Tonks," Dawn said in an executioner's voice.

"Hullo again, Tonks. You're much less masculine this time," Harry commented jovially. Even he was feeling the negative undercurrent of the room. Tonks seemed to catch on and slipped a step behind Buffy, just a little confused and a little scared.

"We've asked you to have dinner with us as a family so we can lay some ground rules for the two of you," Dawn said.

"Ground rules? Dawnie, you're acting like I'm Hermione's age!" Buffy protested.

"No I'm not," Dawn snapped. "My daughter is countless times more responsible than my sister."

"But-"

"No, Buffy, this is for your own good," Dawn said. Pretty much every other adult nodded their heads in agreement. She turned to her sister's lover with a kind smile. "Tonks, the reason we're doing this is because my dear sister has something of a history when it comes to bad relationships."

"Bad relationships?" Tonks repeated confused.

"Relationships that nearly cause the end of the world," Xander put in, fixing his old friend in her seat with a look. "We're really hoping yours isn't one of those."

"That's not true!" Buffy protested.

"Judge," said Giles. "Angel."

"Acathla," said Willow. "Angel."

"Adam," said Tara. "Riley."

"The First," said Xander. "Spike."

"Those weren't my fault!" Buffy protested.

"You certainly took your time dealing with most of them because of your distraction," Dawn said.

"But-"

"No," Dawn growled. "You have a longstanding habit of getting groiny with someone and then getting to know them, and only then finding out that there's some massive character flaw."

Tonks raised a hand, suddenly rather nervous. "Uh, Buffy found out my big secret this morning. I don't really have that many."

"True, but you don't know much else about her," Xander said. "This is for the both of you. Do you like Buffy?"

Tonks blushed like she was Hermione's age and nodded.

"Good," Dawn said. "So you can't complain when we demand you two get to know each other."

"But that's-"

"-Not what you were doing, " Giles stated. "Buffy, I agree with your sister. You should be taking this slow, not jumping into bed at the first opportunity."

"But we already agreed…" Buffy's protest trailed off as she realized they were right. "Oh."

"'_Oh_' is right," Dawn said. "So for this to work, you two will be doing the following: dating like a new couple. You'll be following the same rules as Harry and Hermione, except you won't be sharing a bed."

"That's a good thing," Hermione said. "Harry's a sheet hog."

"And Hermione's a violent sleeper with cold feet," Harry agreed.

"I wouldn't have cold feet if you wouldn't hog the blanket," Hermione told him.

"That's extra padding, so I don't bruise when you kick me in your sleep," Harry countered.

Buffy's glare silenced them both.

"No nookie," Dawn said. "I'm serious about this. You need to be friends, if you want this to work."

Tonks let loose a sigh of relief.

"Oh, I was just so worried because I thought this was because I was a bird," Tonks said at their questioning looks. Buffy was even more confused.

"I thought you were a witch, not a bird?" she asked.

"A bird is British slang for a pretty woman," Giles said.

"Oh," Buffy said. "Wait, so this whole thing is because you want me to be happy in the long run?"

Dawn gave her the eye roll of the long suffering.

Tonks raised her hand again. It felt a lot like getting in trouble back at Hogwarts.

"Yes, Tonks?" Dawn asked.

"Can we at least kiss?"

Dawn quickly conferred with the rest of the family before turning back to the young metamorphmagus. "That would be acceptable. But no hands!"

Tonks nodded frantically. Harry noted that her spiky hair had turned gray, but quickly returned to its original pink. Willow reached over and gave the girl's hand a squeeze.

"Come visit tomorrow and we'll have the 'Gay Now' talk and the 'shovel' talk," Willow said with a friendly smile. "I give it to all human boys and girls that Buffy dates."

"Good," Xander said. "Now that we've taken care of that problem: eats. Thanks again, Harry."

"No problem," Harry said. He leaned over to Tonks and whispered. "Don't tell him, but I just used the microwave for this."

* * *

The day after Tonks' introduction to the family, the Summers/Harris/Granger household had another visit with the Quibbler's greatest reporter. This encounter took place with the girl standing on the step, silent as could be, waiting to be let in. Buffy opened the door, looked at the slightly creepy girl and turned back to the house.

"Dawnie, the creepy but cute reporter girl is here," she yelled to her sister. Dawn ran out to the entryway, drying her hands on a kitchen towel.

"You better not be the one who took pictures' of my daughter's room," Dawn stated in a tone that resembled declarations of war.

"Nope, and besides, Daddy tells me those were just stock photos of the magical love hotel in magical Japan, He claims there's one that looks like Bellatrix LeStrange's room at Azkaban, too," Luna Lovegood replied. "He says that one's the most popular."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're really creepy?" Dawn asked.

"No, they're usually very passive aggressive about it," Luna replied politely. "They like to steal my stuff and pretend they weren't the ones who did it. But it's okay, they've just got wrackspurts."

"Okay, sit down at the table," Dawn said. The girl walked in, specifically avoiding walking under any light fixture.

"Uh, why are you doing that?" Buffy asked a puzzled frown on her face as she watched.

"They're infested with Nargles, it's a safety precaution," Luna Lovegood replied.

'Nargles?' Dawn mouthed to her sister. Buffy just shrugged in confusion.

Luna pulled out her massive yellow pad and quill, straightened her "press pass" (made of Butterbeer caps like her necklace), and sat down on a stool. A moment later, she was the epitome of professionalism at the Quibbler. Well, as professional as the Quibbler ever got.

"So, what's your first question?" Dawn asked the young reporter.

"Is it true that Harry and Hermione are having wild monkey sex every night?"

That kind of comment coming out of the mouth of such a cute little girl almost made Dawn burst into laughter. Then her thoughts turned to certain other publications and anger rose, squelching out the laughter, before finally they found a happy medium and she returned to her original emotional state.

"No," Dawn replied after a moment. "We don't allow that kind of behavior in the house by people their age."

"Even with all the rituals and dark spells that require virgin sacrifice? Most magical parents ensure that their children get it on to prevent them being used in that way," Luna stated professionally. "They are getting pretty much into the prime sacrifice category, you know. Maybe you should consider-"

Buffy spit out her drink at the idea, effectively cutting off that train of thought.

"At _thirteen?_ That's psycho creepy. That's psycho Nabakov's Lolita kinda creepy. That is definitely being added to the long list of things I find creepy about stick people," Buffy said. Luna clearly didn't understand what was wrong. Dawn shot her sister a look that clearly stated that she agreed with the statement, but was going to take a more diplomatic approach.

"We feel that there are other preventative measures that are more important," Dawn said. "We recommend the constant threat of decapitation/disposal of any dark wizard/demon/sorcerer daring to touch my daughter. It's worked fairly well the last few years. She doesn't get kidnapped nearly as much as her father or I did when we were about her age."

"Oh, did that happen often?" Luna asked. Buffy snerked, almost shooting milk out her nose, again.

"You have no idea," Buffy said as Dawn shot her older sister a dark look. "Oh, come on. One or the other of you used to get kidnapped and used in some kind of ritual at least once a month back then. Although the only virginity thing that was an issue seemed to be Xander and the-"

"There will be no talk of that," Xander said, walking into the room wearing a suit and tie. "Long day at the office today. I probably won't be getting back until late."

He and Dawn shared a quick kiss before he headed out the door.

"Wow, now I know where Harry and Hermione get it," Luna said, frantically scribbling something onto her pad.

"Wait, what?" Dawn asked. Something told her that she couldn't possibly expect what this girl actually published.

* * *

The interview Luna conducted was all over the place. Questions made little sense to the Summers Ladies, but they tried their best. The end result was that they weren't really sure of what they had answered. Hopefully, it wasn't anything too bad. Luckily for them, no one believed the Quibbler, anyway.


	14. Pornography, Axes and Wallabies

**Pornography, Axes and Wallabies**

* * *

Thanks be to GreyWizard once more!

* * *

I'll be honest, I was a little hesitant about posting this section, but I talked with some people and they said they thought it could work. I AM however, upping the rating for this chapter because it does deal with some sensitive issues. Note that I do not endorse such publications as described here, but I feel I have shown it to be a negative thing.

* * *

Three weeks later, just in time for the late July birthdays, Ron was packing up a small package to send to Neville, Dean and Seamus. It was a little something the twins had picked up in Knockturn Alley and tried to get rid of immediately once they realized what it was, but had failed to do so.

Ron, actually putting effort into something other than food, chess or quidditch for once, used a replication tool on the literature and felt it important to send to his friends. He did, however, forget that he should have just sent his only copy to two specific people.

This would be an action he would later regret.

When Neville received the package, he made the mistake of opening it at the dining room table. What he saw was something he wanted to make sure his grandmother never saw.

"Neville dear, what did your friend send you? A birthday present, perhaps?" his grandmother asked from the other end of the table. Neville turned crimson and lost his voice. A house elf glanced over and looked to the Longbottom Matron.

"Madame, it is a present of a personal matter for a teenaged wizard," the elf stated formally. Neville's Gran seemed to perfectly understand.

"Oh, well, carry on, then," she said, proud that her grandson was finally growing up.

Neville, for his part, wasn't sure what to do. There was a moral dilemma inside of him. He knew it wasn't right to keep it, not after the revelation of the gift.

However… maybe he should just take a long, long look before sending it along. Eventually, the package was forwarded to a Mr. Harry James Potter, along with instructions that he was to open it alone.

Harry watched as the package fell onto the table with the muggle post, something he found slightly ironic. Noticing his name on it, Harry opened it right there, not bothering with reading the note. What he found instigated emotions that fell somewhere between infuriating, horrifying and mortifying.

"_**Hairy Pooter and the Philosopher's Knob**_!" Hermione screamed in furious disbelief as she looked over his shoulder.

The package was Wizard porn, and this particular issue involved polyjuice potion and a few highly exaggerated bits of anatomy. Both teens wanted to crawl into a hole and die upon seeing versions of themselves in obscure forms of copulation in very animated magical photos.

Unfortunately for the wellbeing of the Wizarding World, Dawn Summers ran up at the sound of her daughter's scream and saw the cover.

To say that, in her opinion, the Wizarding World had gone too far was a little like saying the surface of the Sun was a little warm, or that the First Evil was just misunderstood and had unresolved anger issues.

"Oh, my god," said Harry in a shocked, numb voice. "That looks like I've got a Nimbus between my legs."

"And they added bludgers to my chest," growled Hermione. Together, they stared at the moving images with complete confusion. "I didn't even think that was anatomically possible," she reflexively commented as the two of them stared in horrified fascination, sort of like watching a train wreck in motion.

"It's not," Faith said looking it over. "Not unless you have your third rib removed."

Harry and Hermione shared another scandalized look.

"I don't even want to think about how you know that," Harry said.

"Didn't you leave?" Hermione asked, trying to get her mind off the horror publication.

"Left a few things," Faith said with a shrug. "Can't go anywhere without my favorite knife."

"...right."

Dawn didn't say anything. Dawn was too busy trying to keep things under control inside. She suddenly understood what Willow had felt when Tara died: it was like the world had betrayed her.

A parent's job is to raise, love and keep their children safe. Dawn thought she had done a pretty good job thus far, especially considering everything else that went on in their lives. But this was going too far. This wasn't her fault, but she was damn well going to fix it. Some things were just _**WRONG**_, and pictures of kids her daughter's age (not even counting that this was using _her_ Hermione's face) were sharing the top ranks of Dawn's shit list, right up there with demonic ascension and causing apocalypses.

They would pay for what they had done to her daughter.

But control was important - very important.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Dawn managed to get her powers back under control. She was half tempted to open a portal from the Challenger Deep right into Diagon Alley, but then she remembered they could teleport. She'd need to solve that problem, first.

She leaned back and called into the kitchen. "Xander-honey, get your stuff; we need to axe the minister a few questions."

"Doesn't she mean 'ask'?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Oh no, not at all," his fiancée replied with a completely somber face. She hadn't ever seen her mother this angry before in her life.

Xander Harris-Granger ran out of the kitchen wielding the scariest axe Harry had ever seen. He also had a grin on his face that resembled the paint on a WWII bomber plane.

When Dawn saw him, she shook her head. "No Honey, go get the scary axe, honey."

"Really? The _scary_ axe?" Xander asked numbly. Dawn just held up the nudie mag in front of his face. All humor drained away and the room abruptly seemed to get a little colder, or maybe that was just the smile Harry saw plastered on the man's face. "No, Dawnie, that deserves _two_ scary axes."

He reached behind the couch and pulled out two axes so scary that even the mighty Gryffindor in Harry prompted him to cower being Hermione. Hermione and Dawn, on the other hand, thought it was an appropriate response considering the situation.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry," Xander said as he hefted one in each hand. "These aren't for you."

Just as they were about to leave, Buffy poked her head out from behind the counter where she was making a sandwich. "Have fun storming the castle!"

"Don't wait up!" Dawn called back.

* * *

Harry and Hermione would never find out exactly what Dawn and Xander did on their little trip to the ministry that day, but four days later, a man stripped, tied up in ribbon and wearing a bow with a card around his neck was found on their doorstep.

The card said: Stubby Boardman, Pornographer.

He was very, very scared.

Hermione turned back to the house. "Mum! It's for you!"

Stubby Boardman was neither seen nor heard from again.

* * *

"Hey! Look at this," Harry said, picking up the newspapers one fine morning. He had been, as usual, working on a breakfast worthy of an invading conqueror. This was the kind of breakfast that would have stopped Julius Caesar from crossing the Rubicon for fear of wiping out the crafter of such a fine morning meal. Harry served them up with relish. Granted it wasn't the first choice of condiment that most would spread on their omelet, but it was quite good even if the pun wasn't. "While I think the Skeeter woman is still the real problem, please read page three!"

His parents-in-law turned to page three.

"Wizengamot passes Obscenity Decree 2348 banning pornography from featuring images or actors of people under the age of 21," Xander read appreciatively. "Wow, producing such stuff imposes a mandatory six month stay in Azkaban. That's that magic evil prison you guys were talking about, right?"

"Thanks for whatever you did," Hermione said as she sat down at the counter. "That book was really scary."

Both she and Harry gave an involuntary shudder just thinking about it.

"So, Hon," Xander said. "What ancient and most noble tradition are we going to trounce today?"

"I was thinking maybe the wizy-game-pit, or whatever they call that cesspool of entitlement and stupidity," Dawn replied. "I have no respect for a governing body that sounds like the ball pit at the Double Meat Palace after toddlers let loose their diapers."

"And you have such a wonderful way with words, my dear," her husband responded with a grin. "But maybe we should wait until later. It'd be fun too, but why do everything at once?"

"Maybe we could just go to the zoo instead?" Harry asked.

* * *

And so they went to the zoo because it was generally agreed that zoos rock, even in the freaky realm of wizard land. But this was a "muggle" zoo so it was about fifty-three times as awesome as anything the Wizarding World could come up with. First of all, it had tapirs and by laws of awesome: tapirs rock.

"Hermione, little lovely creation of your mother and me," Xander said as they gazed out upon the faux plains that graced the marsupial enclosure. "Why do you always get so happy and excited when you see wallabies?"

"Because they're cute and come from Australia," she answered agreeably.

"They live in Scotland too," Dawn said to no one in particular. Heads turned in surprise. "What? They're an invasive species, but they do quite well in the Highlands!"

"We should get Hagrid a wallaby for his birthday," Harry mused.

"Maybe we could go hunting Wallabies in Scotland?" Xander suggested with a grin.

"No! No hunting!" Hermione said. "The last time we went hunting I went to Hell in a literal hand-basket and it took you two three months to get the Visas to get into Norway and five to rescue me!"

"Hell is in Norway?" Harry asked with surprise.

"Of course it is! It's just outside Trondheim!" Hermione replied with a huff.

"Oh hush! You were fine!" Dawn said, brushing the past aside.

"I was eight!"

"You shouldn't complain," Xander said. "Olaf turned into a pretty good friend over the years and he kept you safe."

"He said he was raising me up for merry sport in a couple of decades! I don't know what that was supposed to mean, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't good!" Hermione grumbled. Harry raised his hand. "What Harry?"

"I think I know what merry sport is," he told her. She gave him a quizzical look. He swallowed and nodded. "Just think like Faith for a second."

"Think like Faith? ...Ooooooh!" she said as she finally understood the meaning. She turned on her parents with a glare that made superman's heatvision look lame.

"It was only eight months," Dawn said with a roll of her eyes. "Why else do you think you can speak troll?"

"Wait, Olaf was a troll?" Harry asked. "Why do you keep having problems with trolls?"

"They hate fyarls," Hermione said before stomping off to look at the baby elephants. No matter how bad things get, baby elephants make people go "awwwe!" and stare.

"What's a fyarl and how is than an answer?" Harry asked Hermione's folks.

Both parents-in-law shook their heads. "I'll explain later," they replied in unison. Harry just rolled his eyes and followed after his wayward fiancee.


	15. Sleepless Night, Notashovel, Relations

**Sleepless Night, Not-a-shovel, and Relationships**

* * *

Days later, Harry was in bed waiting for sleep. He looked at Hermione, having just fallen asleep next to him. She was so peaceful in the half hour before she fell into that violent phase of her sleep. He looked up at the canopy of the bed and thought about what had happened since the end of the school year.

He didn't really know what to think about everything that was going on.

On one hand, he wasn't at the Dursleys, a very, very happy thought. No cupboards for him this summer. He then thought of everything that was on the other hand. He was engaged to one of his best friends, and while he was happier to be engaged with Hermione than Ron, he still didn't really know what it meant.

What was an engagement? He knew it had something to do with marriage, there were rings involved, but he wasn't sure how it all worked out. It wasn't something most thirteen-year-old boys and girls really had to deal with, at least not on the muggle side of things. Of course, Hermione, being nearly a year older than him and being this brilliant woman, probably knew everything that was going to happen. Or, at least, he hoped she did. He was smart enough to know he was clueless, which showed him to be more wise than most people.

The truth was, while he loved being here, he was lost as for what to do. Here he was, staying with a loving, if slightly insane, family and he wasn't treated like an outsider or a burden. Sure, they teased him sometimes, but it wasn't malicious, not like at the Dursleys' place. 4 Privet Drive was not a place he ever wanted to return to, but he didn't really know what was going on.

In an attempt to make himself feel saner, Harry got up out of bed, put on a robe and walked down to the kitchen to get a drink and maybe clear his head. Sometimes, when he was having trouble sleeping, the house elves would put a cup of warm milk on his table (not that he ever saw them do it), so maybe he'd have a mug of that.

He walked into the kitchen to find Xander sitting at the counter looking over blueprints of a large building.

"Hey Harry, what are you doing up this late?" he asked his accidental son-in-law.

"Thinking about things," Harry said. "Having trouble sleeping."

"I know what you mean these days," Xander said with a smile. "What are you thinking about?"

Harry paused, unsure if this was a conversation he wanted to have with Hermione's violent, exceedingly scary and overprotective father. After a moment, he decided that it was okay since he couldn't see an axe within reach.

"I'm not sure of what to do about Hermione and me," he admitted after a while. Xander sighed and patted the stool next to him.

"You really shouldn't be making this kind of decision at your age. Hell, you shouldn't _have _to make a decision like this at your age," Xander said honestly. "Let's start with: how do you feel about Hermione?" Harry seemed to tense up, prompting Xander put up a hand. "I'm not going to punish you for what you say unless you intend to hurt Hermione."

"I don't," Harry said. "It's just… she's my best friend. Has been for three years now. She's been my friend, even when I was acting like a bloody arse to her."

"Friends can fight; sometimes it's even a good thing," Xander said wisely. "Bottling up the problems doesn't help anyone. Friends who can deal with their problems, or even argue with each other when they think the other one is wrong, are signs of a good relationship, if dealt with appropriately. Unless, of course, their entire relationship is built on arguments; then it's doomed to failure. On that I speak from experience. Me and Cordy? Something that was never going to work. We fought and bickered all the time even if we did enjoy making out with each other."

"That sounds a little like Ron and Hermione, doomed to failure," Harry said with a slight edge of humor to his words. "I…"

He trailed off and stared off into nowhere as he tried to search for the words to articulate what he had going on in his head. He looked up at his sort-of-accidental father-in-law with a confused look. "Hermione isn't really acting like she does at school. She's… it's like she acting out a part."

"In what way?" Xander asked.

"Well, it's like she's forcing herself to be happy, and trying to hide her anger," Harry said. "I… I know her well enough to see that."

"Harry, are you sure you're doing the right thing?" Xander asked him slowly. He knew he was taking a risk, but someone had to talk to the boy about the situation. It was clear that it had been foremost in the boy's mind for some time, and it looked like the rest of the house was just ignoring the whole engagement problem. Xander winced as he thought about what he had done to them at first. Harry looked up at him with pure confusion.

"Look, I know I promised Hermione that I'd stay out of this, but I think it needs to be said," he told the younger man. "Hermione's scared."

"What does she have to be scared about?"

Xander paused and thought a moment. "Has Hermione told you about her Aunt Buffy?"

"Not too much," Harry said. "We don't really talk about that stuff. I guess I understand, given everything that's happened."

Xander had to agree. As fun as the summer could have been for them, the press invasion, the assumptions and the goddamn magical contract was ruining everything for them. And they didn't even know it was possible at first.

"You two are a lot alike. You both carry destiny around on your shoulders, even if someone else placed it there in the first place. You could set it down, but you won't. It's just not who you are. You're both pretty selfless to the point of absurdity."

"I don't know how that's a bad thing?" Harry said, turning it into a question.

"Hermione is afraid that you're turning more into Buffy," Xander said. "She's especially afraid that you're only sticking with her because you know she'll loose her magic if she leaves you."

"No! That's not-"

"Now hear me out," Xander interrupted. "Hermione and I are much more alike than she would care to admit. She's _'the friend'_. At some level, My Darling Daughter doesn't think she deserves to get the boy. You, Harry, that's you. Regardless of if you like it or not, you have kind of taken the role of the Prince Charming in this bizarre tale. Now, the problem is, she's heard all these stories before about Buffy and her love life. Buffy and Angel, Buffy and me, Buffy and Spike and more and more and more."

"But I'm not her; I'm me!"

"Yes, and that's part of what you need to get her to understand," Xander said. "If you care for her, if you can see yourself growing old with her, then it's probably the right choice. If you're doing this out of obligation because of what you think she deserves, then I'll string you up by your toenails until you think you're a monkey. If you're doing this only because you're getting what you want out of it, well, I can think up worse threats, but I'm a bit tired at the moment."

Harry looked at the other man with pure fear.

"You have to understand - Buffy always chose others over her own happiness in her own roundabout way. She chose not to date me because Willow thought she was in love with me. Wills loves me, but she's not _in _love with me. Buffy and I could have been good together," Xander said. The boy looked like he was going to comment, but Xander held up a hand to forestall an argument.

"That's not arrogance, it's the truth," the man said. "But Buffy went for an older, practically unattainable guy who ended up not being the person she thought he was. And he was a vampire, to boot. Then, almost immediately after that was finally dashed to bits, she jumped to Riley, another unattainable guy. He was her TA in college. TAs dating students is a big no-no, but they did it anyways. Drugged up undercover government super-soldiers and Slayers are an even bigger no-no. It was fast, it was passionate, and it was ultimately doomed. Then, a while later, after some other really bad things happened, Buffy went for Spike. Buffy didn't love him. She couldn't even really stand him, at first, but she needed to feel something and self-loathing was something. Buffy didn't realize that you need to be friends with your partner as much as you need sex - or smoochies, in your age bracket." Xander gave him a classic overprotective dad look. "There had better _only_ be smoochies in your age bracket."

Harry wasn't sure how to react to that one, especially since he and Hermione hadn't even gotten to smoochies. Instead, he tried to continue the story. "What happened after Spike?"

"Buffy decided that she wasn't going to have any more relationships, so she tried to ignore any feelings she had for other people. And then, Tara died. And Willow went away for a while to cope."

"Tara looks okay, now," Harry said hesitantly. There was a shadow of emotion that seemed to pass over Xander's face, suggesting a memory that the older man longed to put aside for better things.

"That's part of the story. Buffy got a wish," Xander explained, hoping that the boy understood the parallels to his own life. "She could have wished to be rich, have her mother back, find true love, or anything else she might have wanted. You see, something we'd noticed, but never mentioned, was that Buffy was, and is, in love with Willow. Buffy could have made Willow happy. Willow had just gotten past the rebound girl stage (believe me, nobody liked Kennedy, _nobody _not even Willow after a short while) and it would have been easy for Buffy to just swoop in and be happy."

"Why didn't she?"

"Buffy thought that it was more important for Willow to be happy than for Buffy to be happy with Willow."

"The wish, that's how Tara came back to life," Harry blurted. "And Willow's in love with Tara."

"And always will be. Those two are soul mates," Xander said. "There's something special between them and always will be."

"And Hermione's afraid that I'm doing the same thing: putting her happiness before my own."

"Are you?" Xander asked. He held up a hand to stop a quick response. "Don't answer me. I'm not the one who needs to hear it. You need to think long and hard about that decision. Don't make a snap judgment. Just know this; I'd rather see her _sans_ magic and happy, than married to you and unhappy _with_ magic. The important thing is, are you happy? Happy with her?"

"If the answer is no, then this is wrong and you need to tell her so."

"I-I'm not sure," Harry said, looking at his feet.

"That's a good answer," Xander reassured him. "Don't make this a snap decision, Harry. You're not bickering, you're not throwing bricks at each other, and so don't expect this to fail. Goodness knows, I've messed up enough relationships to know when something's going well."

"Really?"

"You kidding? The only relationship I haven't screwed up is mine with Hermione," Xander replied with a chuckle. Harry gave him a scandalized look. "Not like that, you idiot! I mean, as father and daughter."

"What about you and Dawn?"

"Oh, I screw that up all the time; she just keeps giving me another chance because she loves me," Xander said with a smirk. "An important part of being in a relationship is knowing when to forgive and when to cut your losses."

Harry was quiet for a long moment before looking up at the one-eyed man. "What if I make the wrong choice?"

"You'll find yourself strung up by your toenails until you think you're a monkey."

"So," said Harry. "No pressure then?"

"None at all."

After Harry walked back up to the shared bedroom to contemplate the situation, Dawn stepped in from the hallway where she'd been listening, wrapped her arms around her husband from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. "You're forgetting that she's selfless in ways that usually maximize her personal angst, thus making it a selfish act."

"You can bash your sister if you want, but I'll stick by my friend," Xander said, "even if it is true. At least she's dating a human, this time."

* * *

Across the city, Auror Tonks let out a massive series of sneezes, unbalancing herself in such a way that she fell over backwards, hitting a scale in the shop she was inspecting. The scale fell over, knocking down a coat rack which hit a patron, who dropped their wand while in the middle of casting a fire spell, in an attempt to light a candle.

The wand set the carpet on fire, igniting the high grade whiskey that was being weighed in the first place. The fire spread across the floor, climbed up the curtains and caught fire to the timbers. The smoke from the timbers caused the owls in the owl hatchery above to start panicking, and one snowy owl kicked a nest, causing an egg to roll out of the hatchery, only to land in Tonks' pocket where it then decided to hatch.

Tonks staggered away from the burning building and looked towards the rather angry owner.

"I'm going to have to write you up for improper fire safety," she said in all seriousness. "You really need to have your anti-fire charms renewed."

"Cheep-Cheep," said the owl chick from Tonks' pocket.

"That's the second time this week," Tonks muttered to herself. "Nobody seems to care about fire safety anymore."

* * *

Harry trudged back up the stairs with his mug of milk, pondering the strange conversation he'd just had. Was that what he was doing? He was too tired to really think things through that night, so he pushed those thoughts aside. He opened the door and looked inside to where his best friend and fiancée was sleeping. She had just started to toss and turn. Things had been better lately, sleep wise. It was like they were learning to be together. He awoke with fewer bruises and Hermione was less physically active at night.

Getting an idea, Harry just pulled her into a hug only tight enough to limit flailing, but not to hurt or severely bind. She didn't wake up. He didn't try anything else, but just held her gently still until they both were cradled in the arms of Morpheus and Harry dreamt he was a superhero with cooking powers. It was a strange dream.

Hermione awoke the next morning surprised to find Harry still in bed. He was usually up and about long before she crawled out. Rolling around, she realized his arms were around her.

She could have been mad. She could have felt like he was taking advantage, but she didn't. He wasn't touching her naughty bits or hurting her. It was… nice.

A smile creeping onto her face, she nestled back into the pillow and went back to sleep.

* * *

Thanks Greywizard!


	16. PartayPartay oh, and wow

**PARTY PARTY PARTY oh, and wow...**

* * *

The party planning went well. The teens recommended their friends and friends' families for the party, knowing that they would probably visit, but be completely confused. Sirius sent the Dursleys an invite as well, having transformed for a while when everyone was asleep. They had unsurprisingly declined the invite.

The Weasleys, the Longbottoms and all the Hogwarts professors were invited. All arrived except for Snape (citing some important potions that needed tending), Percy (citing bums that needed kissing, er, "ministry duties"), Bill (citing work), and Charlie (citing dragon mating season coming early).

"You have the coolest hat," Xander told the elder Longbottom as he took her coat. "How do you get the vulture to stay still?"

"Years of discipline," replied the Longbottom matron with complete assurance. The vulture, relaxing on the woman's hat, winked at Xander.

"Well, I'll have Giles show you around," Xander said. "Drinks are by the pool. Feel free to take any empty seat."

"Thank you," the woman said.

Xander looked down at the boy behind her who had been swaddled in a coat too many times too thick for that kind of weather. "Neville, you can hand me the coat and go visit Harry and Hermione by the pool, if you want."

"Oh, thanks for inviting me," the boy said. Neville shivered under the gaze of the very scary muggle torturer.

"I didn't, they did," the man said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at his daughter and her fiance. "Go play."

"Yessir," the boy said formally. With one last nod, Neville ran off - perhaps a little too fast.

'Well, that was odd,' Xander thought to himself.

There was a crack as the Hogwarts staff portkeyed in. Dressed in robes of many clashing colors, they greeted him warmly.

"Mr. Granger, how pleasant to meet you again," McGonagall said with a smile.

"Likewise," Xander said with a roguish smirk. "The party's in there."

"So this is where young Miss Granger lives," the diminutive professor Flitwick pondered. "Not precisely what I expected, I must admit."

"Well, this is only the entryway," Xander said, taking the man's coat. "You'll have to see the library later."

"I think I would enjoy that," the small professor said with a smile. Xander went on to take coats of the other professors and, as he took the divination professor's coat, she announced that he would die.

"Well, yeah," Xander agreed nonchalantly. The others gasped at his agreement. He shrugged. "Gotta happen sometime. Some more often than others, but I'm good with just the once."

"How can you be so blasé about death?" asked McGonagall.

He smirked his roguish smirk and shrugged. "Comes with the job."

Every wizarding folk in hearing agreed silently that Dentistry must be a truly terrible occupation.

* * *

"Mr. Giles," Albus Dumbledore said crisply. The man in question turned around with a puzzled look.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Giles asked.

"Yes, but you went as Ripper, then," Dumbledore stated flatly, with a hint of disapproval.

"Oh, then in that case, we have nothing to speak of," Giles stated, before attempting to turn away.

"I think we might, seeing as your granddaughter is one of my students," Dumbledore said, putting a hand on Giles' shoulder. The academic looked at the offending hand like he was seriously considering cutting it off. "I have no desire to see demons running around my school."

"I'll make a note of it," Giles said coldly as he looked up into the headmaster's twinkling eyes. "Personally, I haven't been very much pleased with your conduct since my dear little girl sent a letter home speaking about her encounter with a troll in the bathroom."

"I'll make a note of it," Dumbledore said, surprised at the negative reaction. Giles wasn't done.

"However, be aware that she takes after both her parents quite a bit," the tweed wearing man added firmly. "She won't tolerate even you threatening her family, of which I am a member. That protection also works both ways. Threaten her, and you shall feel equal reprisals. You would be wise to remember this, Mr. Dumbledore."

"I believe I understand," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Also, there are two one eyed men in this house and only one is allowed to be here," Giles stated bluntly, nodding to where Mad-Eye Moody was "observing" under an invisibility cloak. "I suggest the uninvited one vacate the premise immediately."

With that, he spun around and started chatting up the pretty astronomy professor, Aurora Sinistra, who seemed to like the attention.

Dumbledore, still not sure of what to make of the situation, decided it was time for a drink.

Soon enough, everyone had arrived and was enjoying the bright summer sun on the 31st of July. Apparently, Arthur Weasley didn't quite understand that there were different muggle cultures and so not everything was the same. Celebrating the Queen's birthday, for example. Xander's coworkers were besieged by seemingly endless questions from the man. His mindset was explained by telling the other muggles that the Weasleys and others were "from away," and that seemed to simplify the conversations.

* * *

Eventually, there was a bit of a confrontation between Ginny Weasley and the newly engaged couple.

"I won't let you take him from me!" Ginny Weasley snarled at Hermione Granger with a look of near madness. "He's _precious _to me!"

The room, filled with primarily non-wizarding folk, was suddenly silent. The three kids suddenly realized that everyone was looking at them. After a tense moment, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, wonderful person that you are, would you do me a favor?" he asked her.

"Sure?" Hermione replied, not quite knowing why he was changing the subject.

"Please don't throw me in a volcano."

Hermione grinned, suddenly getting the reference; the wizarding folk (save the Headmaster) were totally lost. "Of course, I wouldn't. And besides, even Gandalf and Elrond over there probably wouldn't approve."

She nodded towards Dumbledore and Giles, who both looking on in interest, having paused their personal conversations. Xander chuckled before leaning close to his wife. "Are we sure she won't vanish if she gets him wrapped around her finger?"

"We'll just have to send the scruffy Samwise after them," she replied, gesturing to Neville. She paused in thought. "Or maybe that's Ron? But who is Boromir?"

Harry and Hermione looked into each other's eyes with a grin. "Snape!"

"What's this?" Giles asked as he and the fetching Astronomy Professor walked over to join the other couple.

"You're Elrond, Hermione's Frodo, Neville or Ron is Samwise and Snape's Boromir," Harry said. Giles smirked. "Moody is obviously Gimli, and most obvious of all is Gandalf." He motioned to the Headmaster.

"Oh? But who are you, Harry? Legolas or Strider?" Giles inquired.

"Oh, no," Harry said. "You see I'm a seeker and I've got a connection to a Dark Lord. But don't you worry; Hermione's already promised not to throw me in a volcano."

"Yes, and I'm sure we were all so worried about that," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny demanded. "All I said was that you were _precious _to me!"

There was suddenly a lot of space around Ginny Weasley as she emphasized the phrase. She looked just as confused as all the other Wizarding folk (minus Dumbledore, of course). Xander chuckled. "Can you say that again, but in more of a hiss?"

"Pre_c_iou_sss_?"

Xander shook his head. "You're doing it all wrong. Say it again and draw out the syllables. Maybe growl _and_ hiss it a little."

"_Preah-shoussss?"_A number of listeners jumped at the perfect rendition.

"GREAT GOOGLIY-MOOGILY!" Xander screamed in horror.

Harry turned to Hermione. "_That_ was creepily real."

"Oh, yeah," she agreed. Hermione gave the redheaded girl a thumbs-up. "That was perfect."

"Who are we?" Buffy asked curiously, gesturing to the remaining Scoobies. Hermione pursed her lips and tapped her forefinger on them until she came up with the decision.

"Buffy's Legolas, Dad's Strider and Mum's Arwen, for obvious reasons," the girl explained with a hint of a grin. "Tara is Gladriel and Faith is Eowen."

"Fred and George should be obvious," Harry said, "Merry and Pippen, of course. And Hagrid is Treebeard."

"Willow…you know, Wils, I'm not sure where you fit in," Hermione said, stumped.

"That's me, Elizabeth Nigma," Willow said with a grin.

"I give you much props for the Batman and rule 63 references, my Willowy friend," Xander said with an appreciative nod. "What about the esteemed Mr. Lupin?"

"Faramir," Hermione and Harry said in unison.

"What is going on?" Ginny demanded, annoyed and clearly confused. "I only said he was _precious_ to me. Why is _precious _such a bad thing?"

Giles silently handed her a large red tome.

"What's this?" she asked, surprised by the weight. "The Lord of the Rings?"

"The answer to your question," Giles said. "I am afraid it would take far too long to explain, otherwise."

* * *

And where was Ron during all of this?

Ron had discovered the rare delicacy known as the Hamburger and was making sure he knew every one intimately. There would be none left for anyone else.

* * *

Unbeknownst to most guests, the entire thing was being documented by a certain illegal animagus who was being watched by another certain illegal animagus. About half way through the party, Sirius Black, in his commonly viewed form of Padfoot, a large, scruffy Irish Wolfhound, leapt up, snatched a beetle out of the air and settled down under Hermione's feet. He licked her hand and deposited the poor reporter in the girl's hand. Hermione instantly scooped the beetle up and placed her in a jar, screwing the lid on tight.

"Hermione, I didn't know you collected bugs," Tara said.

"I don't," the girl said with an evil smile. "Harry and I do collect illegal animagi, however. We've got a dog and a beetle. Not quite a full set, but it's a start."

Tara took a better look at the jar. "Oh, that's the one Willow spotted earlier, right?"

"Yep," Hermione said, giving the jar a little shake. "Should solve some of our problems. Are you going back to Maine after the party?"

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded. "We think there's another attempt at resurrecting the Old One trapped under 'Salem's Lot. We're going to have to do some clean up if it gets out again."

"What's an Old One?" Neville asked. Neither one had realized he was there.

"A, uh, really old thing," Tara prevaricated badly.

"Tara!" Hermione protested indignantly, before turning back to her classmate. "Neville, there are things out there that are beyond the scope of the Wizarding world. Some people call them demons or horrors or other things. They bridge the muggle, the magical, the realms beyond both. At one point, the world was ruled by Old Ones. These creatures were so powerful that they were able to dominate in ways we cannot even comprehend now. However, humans rebelled and either forced the Old Ones to flee, or captured and imprisoned them. Most were trapped in something called the Greater Well, but there are a few others here and there."

"So, are they like big boggarts?"

Tara and Hermione shared a look. Hermione shook her head as she turned back to her schoolmate. "No, big dementor that eats more than just the soul is closer."

"You're not trying to scare me?" Neville asked.

"Trying? No," Tara said with a warm smile. "But it's okay to be scared. They're really, really scary."

"But they're not out and about that much, so no need to worry," Hermione told him. "Except for vampires. They're minor demons, you know."

"I don't like vampires," Neville said. "I don't understand why there are laws protecting them, when their only food source is people."

"You won't find many people who will argue against you at this party," Hermione said. "With the exception of two, vamps are icky."

"Two?" Neville asked.

"Well, used to be three, but one turned human again," Hermione said. "Uncle Hair-Gelly got married to Cordy, who is like a sort of quasi-aunt, and they've had fourteen kids."

"Fifteen," Tara correct. "Cordy just had another one."

"Don't they know about birth control?" Hermione asked.

"Cordy's got a curse from something Jasmine did," replied Tara. "Pretty much she's doomed to mystical pregnancies."

"Just glad that's not me," Hermione said.

"Well, you're just on your first real relationship," Tara said. "Give it time."

"Uh, what about the other vampires?" Neville asked. "The good ones or the not-evil ones?"

"Well, there's Spike," Hermione said. "He's got a soul and he's more like my only uncle, even if he's not really family."

"I think he's turned quite nice," Tara said. "He hasn't gone on a murderous rampage in a long time. He's even completely gotten over Drusilla and Buffy."

"Uh, that's nice, I guess," Neville said, a bit clumsily. "Hermione? Weren't you supposed to be a muggleborn?"

"Uh, well, that's just what I let everyone assume," Hermione said, with a slight blush of embarrassment.

"In your terms, Hermione's more like a half blood or a three quarters blood, depending on how you look at it," Xander said as he slumped into a chair next to them.

"Really? We all thought you were a dentist?"

Xander gave the boy a look filled with so much confusion; casters of confundus charms would have been greatly impressed. "Uh, no, I'm not a dentist," he said, shaking his head in disagreement. Turning to his daughter, he asked, "Hermione, why would they all think I'm a dentist?"

"Uh, because I told them you were," Hermione said, looking at her feet.

"You come from a proud family of demon hunters, young lady, going back three or four generations, depending on how you look at it," Xander chided. "I won't have any of that kind of talk in my house. Dentist? Really, Hermione!"

"Sorry, Dad," she whispered.

"Wait, so you're not a muggleborn?" Neville asked. "Your parents are magical?"

"I wouldn't say magical," Xander replied. "I've cast a spell or two, but I've never been very good at it. I tend to have bad results, like getting married to a song demon. What a mistake that was! Dawn, Willow and Tara here are the real spellcasters in the family."

"You?" Neville said, turning to the smiling blonde woman lounging next to him. She nodded sweetly.

"I'm a wicca, just like them," Tara told him.

"What's a wicca?"

"It's like a witch, but I don't use a wand," Tara said. "Totally different magical tradition."

"Wow," Neville said. He didn't say anything for a while, and then repeated, "Wow."

"Neville?" Hermione asked. "Just… I don't know, please keep it quiet okay? I don't think the others would understand."

"Wow," Neville said again.

"You okay?"

"Wow."

"Neville?" Hermione asked once more, a bit more worried for her friend.

"Wow."

"I think we broke him," Hermione said worriedly to Tara.

"He'll be fine," Tara said with a knowing smile. "It's just his paradigm shifting."

* * *

"So how did you two meet?" Molly Weasley asked Dawn and Xander. The three of them and Arthur were sitting in the shade, watching as people dove in the pool, chatted and cavorted. At the question, Dawn gave her husband a knowing smirk. Xander sighed and replied.

"Well, I went to school with Buffy, Dawnie's older sister," Xander said. "I got to know Dawnie by visiting."

"Dawn, who by the way, hated being called Dawnie at the time," Dawn was quick to point out.

"Yeah, so back then, I wasn't really interested in dating a ten year old girl," Xander said, "but years passed, we grew up, I graduated from school, and our town became a crater."

"More years passed, Xander went off to Africa for work, I finished school and a few years after that, I got tired of waiting," Dawn explained.

"What were you doing in Africa?" Arthur asked.

"Headhunting," Xander said, "and looking for people to fill some jobs."

"Oh," Arthur said. He shared a look with his wife. Both understood that the rumors had just been confirmed. Xander was a very dangerous man. While this was true, it wasn't for the reasons they believed.

"Yeah, so after a few months after I left, I got to Sudan and finally tracked him down," Dawn said.

"She shot me with a tranq gun, tied me up and used me for merry sport," Xander finished with a grin.

"Then Buffy found out and told me I'd better make an honest man of him," Dawn said with an even bigger grin.

"She's never succeeded, but it was a valiant effort," Xander said with a loving smirk at his wife.

"So what happened to Hermione's birth mother?" Molly asked. Dawn's face grew dark.

"_**I**_ am her birth mother," Dawn said. Both Weasleys jumped at the force in her voice.

"Oh, but you look so young," Molly said, trying to cover her mistake.

"Tell me about it," Xander said with a roll of his eye. "I'm tired of being picked up by the cops because they think I'm dating a teen."

"Humph, I'm tired of being picked up by cops because storekeepers think I've got a fake ID," Dawn grumbled.

* * *

"May I have your attention, please?" Hermione said, but was unable to gather their attention. Professor McGonagall leaned forward and tapped her neck with a Sonorus charm.

"**MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION?"**

Yep, that worked.

"It's almost time, and I'd like to thank everybody for coming," Hermione said. "It's foremost a birthday party, at first for Harry, but we realized that it was Neville's birthday yesterday, so we'd like to include him in this as well."

"Wow," Neville said, actually honest about being amazed and thankful to have friends at his party for the first time ever.

"And it's a party for all those people from Dad's office who just showed up for the booze," Hermione continued, gathering some laughs. "Dad told me to say that. So let's get to the presents!"

"Hey Harry," Xander said to the boy next to him. "How did Darth Vader know what Luke was getting for his birthday?"

"I dunno," Harry replied.

"He felt his presents," Xander finished to a collective groan. It was a pretty bad joke, but seemed to be in the mood of the day.

* * *

The party was starting to wind down when Willow got up abruptly. The Hogwarts staff had all left, and the Weasleys were on their way out. Willow, her playful brainy nature temporarily subdued, ran over to Tara and whispered in her ear. By the time she was done, the Longbottoms were the only guests left.

"Sorry, guys, trouble back home," Willow said with an apologetic smile.

"Have fun saving the world!" Buffy called out.

"We won't, but we'll pretend we will," Tara said with a smile. They nodded to Dawn who nicked her finger with a fork, opening up a great green glowing portal revealing an idyllic scene of lobstermen, tourists and Deep Ones running all over the place. The two American witches stepped through and the portal closed behind them

There was a long moment of silence before Neville Longbottom summed it all up for everyone not a Scooby.

"Wow."

* * *

Three days later, they discovered that Professor Flitwick had discovered the library, and hadn't left.

* * *

Thanks GreyWizard, once more!


	17. Got Any 2's?

**Got any 2s?**

* * *

Thanks again GreyWizard

* * *

After Harry's birthday, in which there were many presents given the boy (Xander gave Harry his first axe; Hermione, as could be expected, gave him a book of spells; Dawn gave him a book of charms for various things; Willow gave him a book on wiccan magic; Giles gave him a book on banishing spirits), and taunts and threats sent to the Dursleys -Xander and Giles took care of that part- the rest of the summer involved beaches and the South of France. It also involved an incursion of Fishmen who had increased their numbers since their days on the Sunnydale swim team. They also didn't appreciate that Xander wasn't being a team player.

Harry turned to his fiancée with wide eyes where they were still relaxing on the beach.

"Did that Creature from the Black Lagoon reject just kidnap your dad?" he asked.

Sigh... "Yes, yes it did," she agreed.

Hermione was about to call her aunt and mom, but then two more showed up and kidnapped Harry by thwacking him on the back of the head with a finny paw.

"Hey! He's not even an official Scooby yet!" Hermione protested as Harry was forced to chew some kind of herb and dragged beneath the waves. Grumbling to herself about idiot Fishmen, she pulled out her cell and hit the speed dial.

"Hi, Mum? Yeah, Dad and Harry just got kidnapped by Buffy's old classmates... No, the Swim team ones... Nope, they never even glanced at me... No, I'm not planning on breaking the Statute of Secrecy... I know you think it's stupid, but I'm the one who has to live with the consequences... I know we're in France now, but that's an international law! ...Muuum! I can't believe you said that!"

* * *

Across the city of Nice, Dawn snapped her mobile shut and glanced at her sister, who was looking at a nice sundress with Tonks. "Xander and Harry just got kidnapped by fishmen."

"Really?" Tonks asked, completely confused.

"'Bout time," Buffy said. "Here I thought his indoctrination wasn't going to be until he got to school."

"Indoctrination? Word-a-Day calendar working for you?" Dawn asked.

"Hey! I know big words!" the blonde protested.

Tonks glanced between the two sisters with a bit of confusion. "Why are you so not upset?"

"Oh, we are, but we're waiting for the obligatory 'Let's try to trap the Slayer' note to show up," Buffy replied with a growl. "We should probably move in the general direction of the beach."

* * *

What they saw when they arrived at the beach was not what they expected. There are two basic reactions to demonic incursions: bedlam or complete rationalization. This wasn't either.

Instead of the full riot or complete peace they expected, they found Hermione, a fishman and a cricket bat. The fishman was cowering with his arms protecting his tender head from her assault.

"GIVE THEM BACK!" the frizzy haired girl screamed as she beat the poor scaly kidnapper with the cricket bat.

Unfortunately for Hermione's demands and wants, fishmen can't really talk when beaten repeatedly, so any response he had, assuming he spoke English at all, would have made little sense to the girl.

"Hermione!" Buffy called out. "You need to work on your follow through! You can throw your shoulder out swinging like that!"

The blonde woman was quick to take the cricket bat from her niece and show the younger girl the proper way to physically abuse a fishman. "See, if you do it like this, you're using less effort and can cause more pain. Also works better if you aim for the kidneys."

"Oh, thanks, Aunt Buffy," Hermione said, swinging the cricket bat again, this time aiming more for the torso.

"Good job, but don't go too far when you're pulling back for another swing," Buffy said, pantomiming hitting her own fishman. Hermione nodded and made sure to use the proper amount of force and form.

Looking on, Tonks gaped as her girlfriend taught an incoming 4th year how to brutalize a magical creature.

"Are you just going to let them do this?" she asked Dawn. The brunette crossed her arms under her breasts and shrugged.

"They kidnapped my husband and future son-in-law, I'm not feeling too forgiving," Dawn replied.

"Won't this look bad to the locals?"

"They tend to understand," Dawn said. "Besides, I suspect that someone else is having the same problem."

She pointed a bit further down the beach to where a pair of very pretty blonde girls were brutalizing another fishman in a similar manner. Tonks sighed and massaged her temples.

"My paperwork sense is tingling," she grumbled, proving that Buffy was rubbing off on her. "I hate paperwork."

* * *

Harry awoke to find himself wearing nearly nothing, but not the nearly nothing that he had been wearing as beachwear.

No, rather than his pair of stylish trunks with a Hawaiian print, he was wearing something that looked like seaweed bondage gear. It was surprisingly comfortable. Glancing around, he realized that he was far from alone. Fifteen other attractive human males of various ages were trussed up in similar gear.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Xander said from off the side. "You're now officially a Scooby!"

"Huh?" Harry asked intelligently.

"You can't just join up," Xander replied. "You need to become a Slayer, an impossibility for those of us of the XY chromosome, be a watcher, or be a love interest of a Scooby and get kidnapped by supernatural critters. Now that you have chosen the most difficult path, your next stage of your orientation requires you to survive the encounter. Unfortunately, this tends to have a rather low survival rate without becoming some sort of magical creature yourself, but you're already a wizard, so you should be fine."

"Uh, okay..." Harry said before glancing around once more. They were in a sea cave of some sort, but it clearly didn't fill completely with water as could be seen by the seaweed line along the wall. The result was a Romanesque grotto with a nice beach, carved marble pillars, and frescoes of naked nymphs, dryads and sirens frolicking with naked men, satyrs and the occasional hermaphrodite. It was not the kind of thing that could be described in detail for someone of Harry's age legally. "What is this place?"

"I'm thinking abandoned Roman temple taken over by fishmen," Xander hypothesized. "Pretty nice place, though I think it could use a bit of a touch up. Two thousand years of wear and tear can be a bit problematic. I think I know the quarry the marble came from, though."

"I'm not sure that's going to help us at the moment," Harry argued, only to be interrupted by three men speaking in rapid fire French. Harry looked back at Xander. "Did you get any of that?"

"Nope, I'm a carpenter, not a linguist," the one eyed man replied. "You're kidnapped with the wrong in-law for that. My French begins and ends with 'where's the crapper?' unfortunately."

"How do you say that?"

"Ou est la toilette?" Xander replied in an atrocious accent.

Two of the men pointed in the general direction of the dark end of the grotto.

"Uh, thanks," Xander replied. "Uh, merci?"

"So, we can see because of the light from the water, I guess that means we're close to the surface out there," Harry guessed.

"Yeah," Xander replied, "but who knows how far from shore. And from personal experience, fishmen are faster swimmers than humans, so we'd never get away without a fight."

"Right," Harry agreed. He glanced around for a weapon. Stumped, he looked up at his quasi-father-in-law. "Can you use seaweed as a whip?"

"I'm sure someone can, but my whip experience ended in a rather painful attempt at emulating Indiana Jones," Xander replied.

"Myself az well," put in another man with a French accent. He was older, perhaps early middle age, and unlike Xander, he actually showed it slightly around the middle and around the eyes. His hair was dyed, but still had that slickness of a tell, giving it away. "Eet waz razzer bad. Eez zat 'ow you lost your eye?"

"Nope, a preacher thought I saw too much and stuck his thumb in it," Xander replied honestly. He held out his hand. "Xander Harris."

"Truly? I would not zink one of your renown would be in zuch a predicament az thiz," the man asked, taking the carpenter's hand.

"Ya hoid a me?" he asked in his best Bugs Bunny.

"Oui," the man replied. "I am named Delacour."

"Nice to meet you," Xander said.

"It is, aa you zay, likewize," the man replied before glancing at Harry's forehead.

The boy sighed and rolled his eyes.

"'Arry Potter," Delacour commented, glancing at the boy's forehead. "You are a surprize az well."

"I hate this scar," Harry grumbled, running a finger over the offending mark. Xander shrugged.

"At least he didn't ask for your autograph," the one-eyed man commented. Harry crossed his arms over his seaweed clad chest and scowled.

"Msr Potter, you will find zat France does not 'ave the zame kind of willful ignorance an' obzession with your pozition zat you find en Britain," Delacour commented.

"Are you a...you know?" Harry asked.

"Am I a wizard? Oui," Delacour replied with a slight smile. "An' my daughterz are no doubt mizzing me az we speak."

* * *

The Delacour daughters were surprisingly creative in their abuse of their captive fishman. Newly seventeen, Fleur was blatantly breaking the International Statute of Secrecy casting hex after hex at the hapless amphibious humanoid. Said fishman was cowering as psychedelic squirrels spontaneously climbed out his ears, his tail transformed into something resembling a cat's, and his nose was something between a tapir and an elephant.

"Lose a man?" Hermione asked in french.

"Oui, mon Pere" Fleur replied as her little sister stabbed the fishman with a piece of driftwood. The poor Sunnydale survivor cried pitifully as scales flaked off his fishy form. "Je m'appelle Fleur Delacour."

"Je m'appelle Hermione Granger," Hermione replied.

"It iz okay, I speak Anglaise," Fleur replied.

"Oh, thank you," Buffy said. "I mean, I speak Halloween French, but that's like not this French."

Fleur looked at the blonde woman with confusion. "I zought I spoke English, but zhat made no sense."

"Aunt Buffy doesn't speak English or French," Hermione replied. "She speaks Californian and 15th Century French, so that doesn't really help in common conversation outside of talking with really old demons and vampires and the occasional lich. She still gets elevator and lift confused."

* * *

"Okay, so let's start planning our escape," Xander said, clapping his hands together. They could see that the light was weakening as things got darker.

"Didn't you just say that we couldn't get out of here without a fight?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, and that's why we fight," Xander said. "Because if we don't. The womenfolk are going to burst in here and save our bits just as the demon we've been captured for is about to eat us, and we'll never, ever hear the end of things."

"Don't you mean, saving our butts?" one man asked.

"No," Xander replied. "No, I don't."

"I thought you used to get rescued all the time?" Harry asked.

Xander scowled. "Yes, and they've never let me hear the end of it," he grumbled.

"We should find our sings," another man commented with a German accent that didn't translate well into text. "Aye ahm missing mine money and mine passport."

Many of the other men made similar comments.

"Right, so has anyone tried to take off the bondage-weed, yet?" Xander asked. One embarrassed man blushed an mumbled something about the seaweed "hugging" certain bits of anatomy if the such an attempt was made. "Okay, so that explains the lack of prison bars."

* * *

On the surface, Dawn was doing a tracking spell.

"This would be so much easier if one of you were kidnapped," she muttered glancing at her daughter and sister.

"Why iz zat?" asked Fleur.

"Because I could track the blood," Dawn replied. "Now, I can only hope that they're all in the same place."

The spell hit the map and centered on a spot directly at their location.

"Underground lair," all three Summers women stated flatly.

"How do you know?" Fleur asked.

"Because it's always an underground lair," Buffy said. "For once, I'd like a nice high rise apartment lair, maybe with some leather couches and fruity drinks. But no! I have to climb in the sewers, or dig through pits and mass graves that haven't been disturbed by humans for hundreds of years and ruin another set of clothes."

"I'm sure that eventually, you'll find a bad guy that is more concerned with his appearance than his evil plots," Tonks said, putting an arm around Buffy's waist. Buffy leaned in.

"It's just not fair, and I just bought this jacket yesterday."

Dawn just shook her head at her sister. "Buffy, grow up."

"I don't wanna!"

* * *

Okay, so five hours of searching later, there's no clothing, no gear and attempting to swim away just makes the bondage weed 'hug' a little closer and take root on whatever it could. Of course, since most of the men attempted to escape together, they were currently in one long man-chain.

"We're doomed," Xander said.

"Why?" Harry inquired.

"Because here they come," Xander replied.

"The kidnappers?"

"Yup," Xander replied, looking up at a small legion of fishmen dressed up like Roman Legionnaires with muscular armor, scales and long spears. Each wore a barnacle encrusted Gladius on each hip and carried a tower shield. "You know, I'd think that it would be a little difficult to fight like that under water."

"Az would I," Delacour agreed. He listened to the classical Latin they issued forth and nodded. "Zey are to bring us to ze Leader."

Harry squirmed as he watched them put strange looking giant snails on the captives' faces and glanced over at Xander, who had a similarly uncomfortable expression. Xander glanced at Delacour.

"Eet iz to let uz breathe," the other man replied.

"Ah."

After a bit of squirming on Harry's part, they were all fitted with the breathing snails and dragged to the back of the cavern. They walked down corridors and pathways they couldn't see because of the snails and eventually dragged into warm waters, this time fresh and brought up into another Grotto. Xander stood up, removed the snail from his face and gawked at what he saw.

It wasn't the mass of captive men; it wasn't the full Legion of Fishmen in full armor; no, it wasn't even the scantily clad fishwoman with "generous" proportions sitting on a throne made of mother of pearl (in the sense that the throne was a giant clam, open and its meaty bits were her cushions). No, it wasn't even the gold that decorated the new grotto.

It was the giant marble statue carved with exacting detail that stood above the bethroned woman.

"Awe crap!" Xander said. "It's Coach Marin!"

* * *

Dawn noticed that the fishman heard her sister's name and abruptly became very, very still. He only moved his eyes as he glanced at the blonde woman and at the nasty looking dagger she held along her forearm. He then swore heavily in Classical Latin. The things he said under his breath cannot be repeated nor translated because the very words would curdle mortal brains. Dawn being the Key, wasn't mortal, and so it was fine. The Fishman did continue on and talk about the dark one, Buffy and how she destroyed the Creator, the deity known only as Coach.

"Sunnydale alert," Dawn replied. Buffy scowled and harrumphed.

"I thought they looked familiar," the Slayer complained. "Which one is he?"

"I think he's a later generation," Dawn replied. She asked the critter something in classical Latin and it replied in kind. "It says that it's been seven generations since they left the land and escaped your wrath."

"My wrath?" Buffy asked.

"You're their devil figure, the destroyer," Dawn explained.

"I'm not a devil!"

"No, you're their version of an evil deity," Dawn explained further. "They think you killed their creator."

"But they ate him!" Buffy protested.

Dawn asked the fishman another question, and got a burbling reply in Latin.

"He says that you cast the Coach down from heaven,

"He fell in a hole!"

"-and chased them from the land-"

"They did that themselves when they shed their skin!

"-and into the sanctity of the sea," Dawn translated.

"That was just swimming out the sewer to the coast!"

Dawn just shrugged.

Hermione, Fleur and her sister looked on with amazement. Hermione turned to the two french girls and shrugged. "Religion, who can really figure it out?"

"Oh, you're one to talk, miss _'Specter-of-the-Oncoming-Storm'_" her mother chided. Hermione immediately went pale and glanced around.

"Don't call me that!" she hissed, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had heard. "That was an accident!"

"Same here," Buffy said, holding up a hand. "So, you've got a fishman, we've got a fishman. Anybody got a leash? We'll go man hunting."

"That just sounds wrong," Hermione said. She cocked her head as Gabrielle commented about the situation in French and blushed. Dawn glanced between the two with a confused look. Fleur just rolled up a newspaper and whacked her little sister on the back of the head.

"Nozhing wrong 'ere," Fleur commented. "Ma souer, my sister, is, 'ow you say, ah, oui, a pervert."

"She's like nine," Buffy commented.

"Oh, she's a pervert, alright," Hermione confirmed. "Age has nothing to do with it."

And that was how Fleur and Hermione became friends.

* * *

The woman on the throne looked like a what you would get if HR Geiger and Frank Frazetta teamed up for a painting. Blessed with bright eyes that seemed to almost glow green, her skin was covered in black and dark, dark green scales that were meshed with hips and breasts that Hollywood wishes they could reproduce. (Why a clearly non-mammal had mammary glands, no one knew, but it was the least of the captives' problems). She wore a white dress that looked like it was right off the set of Cleopatra and enough gems to double France's GNP if sold.

She stood up, raising a hand, bringing silence to the crowd. As one, the fishy legionnaires turned and knelt before the idol of Coach Marin. She began speaking in Classical Latin, which the soldiers repeated on occasion.

"So, any bets? Forced Harem for the priestess or human sacrifice?" Xander asked. "I'm leaning towards harem."

"Are those the only choices?"

"Well, there's always 'let's make a trap for the Slayer by kidnapping her friends' but I'm not getting that vibe here, too many innocents," Xander mused. "And if they were vampires, I'd say they were going for a mass fledging, but these are fishmen—OH CRAP! THEY'VE GOT A SAUNA!"

Harry looked up to see some of the men being dragged to a steamy room."Why are you so afraid of saunas?" Harry asked.

"Because that's how they got made in the first place!" Xander replied worriedly. "I don' wanna be a fishman!"

"Neazer do I!" cried another man.

"Ditto!"

"So we must rise up to resist the strangely comfortable seaweed and fight back!" Xander said, standing to his feet. He held up a hand and looked a little too much like the hero on the cover of a romance novel. "Cry Havoc and punch repeatedly the fish of war!"

"YEAH!"

The fishy legionnaires did not expect a mass battle to take place. And fishmen, while quite strong, were rather ungainly on the surface, and their tactics were not quite as good as it should have been. Xander tripped one, wrenched the spear out of its hands and kicked another in the face. That hurt a lot because fishmen have rather scaly and pointy faces. Harry followed along, grabbing a sword. He still didn't know how to use one, but he'd had luck with one in second year, so he figured it was worth a chance. He was well acquainted with the basic idea—put the stabby end in the other guy.

While their initial attack was successful, the human men/sacrifices/transformation subjects were beaten back when the roman fishmen fell into a phalanx and started herding them towards the sauna.

"This isn't good!" Harry commented as the men in the line directly behind him, Delacour and Xander were forced to retreat into the Sauna.

"Don't worry," Xander said. "Buffy, Tonks, Dawn and Hermione are due right about-"

There was a massive explosion on the other side of the grotto as Buffy pulled a Kool-aid-Man and busted right through the wall, sword in one hand, giant troll hammer in the other.

"-Now," Xander finished. He waved as his wife crept through the hole in the wall after her sister. "Hi, Honey!"

"How's Harry?" Dawn asked.

Harry jumped up so he could be seen over the line of flabbergasted fishmen. "I'm okay!"

The fishmen stared at Buffy, taking in her appearance, shivered and turned white in fear, before promptly running away. The fishy priestess climbed inside her clam throne and pulled it shut. The mollusk sprouted legs and ran towards the water, sinking beneath the surface with a plop. Buffy gawked at the sight, glanced at Xander's appearance, then up at the marble statue.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me!"

Xander nodded sadly. "They've even got a sauna."

Dawn and Hermione looked at their men, both dressed only their seaweed swimsuits, and started to drool.

"Iz eet over?" Fleur asked as she walked in with her little sister and Tonks.

"I think so," Tonks said. "But I was expecting an epic battle that I could brag about back home. This was rather anticlimactic."

"Fate will remember that when it's your initiation," Dawn said, as she nonchalantly cleaned her mouth. It was Tonks' turn to shiver in fear. "Well, might as well pull those guys out of the Sauna and start their detox."

Hermione ran over and pulled Harry into a hug.

"It's okay," Harry said, returning the hug. "I'm alright."

"I was so angry," Hermione growled. "Not at you, Harry."

"Well, we can go back to the beach as soon as I change," Harry commented. "I doubt they'll try again this soon."

"You're not changing," Hermione said.

"Why haven't you found my clothes and things?"

"Even if we did, you're not changing," the girl said flatly with just a slight bit of drool on her lips, but that might have been a trick of the light.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

"Um...okay?"

The rest of their vacation was pleasant without incident except for when Harry's seaweed dried up and fell off at a rather ill opportune moment, but that is a tale for another time.

* * *

**Next Time: There will be TEXT!**


	18. A Sweet Song in Their Hearts

.

**Are You Sure This Was a Good Idea?**

By DireSquirrel

_Chapter 18_

_"A Sweet Song In Their Hearts"_

.

* * *

"Wormtail!" the homunculus that housed the shade of Voldemort demanded, calling the simpering sycophant over to him.

"Yes my master?" the rat-faced man replied, kneeling down before him.

"I have a cunning plan to regain my power, you are going to help me," the shade-formerly-known-as-Tom-Riddle explained. "There is a ritual, but it will take some time to enact. First, however, we need to distract the idiotic sheep of the wizarding world."

"Yes, my great and mighty dark lord," the shade's minion sycophanted in reply. "And what will that distraction be?"

"You're going to summon a demon," the shade explained further. Peter balked at the idea of trafficking in the infernal realms, but ole Voldy was having none of it. "There's a text that you need to recover first. This demon has brought empires to their knees in the past. One measly group of sheep should be nothing."

"I-uh..." the traitor Marauder stammered, trailing off as he sought out some sort of reasonable excuse to get out of the task. His feeble attempts at diverting the conversation were as futile as resistance.

"You shall serve me well, _Rat_, or I'll serve you to Nagini," Voldemort commanded in a voice incongruous with his current miniscule and grotesque form.

"Your will is mine, master," Wormtail quickly replied.

* * *

"Why do I feel like something terrible is going to happen?" Harry asked in Nice. Hermione looked up from her book with a quizzical expression. For the first time in a week, they were not on the beach, but in a small cafe that had the most amazing treacle tart. Which was odd, since treacle tart wasn't exactly an example of French cuisine.

"What prompted this feeling?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure. It's just... I know it's August, but it feels like late May, early June," Harry said clearly puzzled.

"It's not the weather is it?"

"Nope."

"The clothing?" Hermione asked. "Or lack there of? We are in the south of France, after all."

"No, not that either," Harry said. "I'm not really sure, but it seems like something truly dreadful has been figured out and I'm not sure how to explain the feeling."

* * *

"Remus," Faith said leading her boy toy into the isolated Himalayan Temple, "This is Oz."

Oz was apparently a very short man with electric blue hair sitting cross-legged on a pillow positioned on a patio overlooking a lush valley with numerous mountains beyond. Remus sighed as he hung his head.

It had taken him two days before he managed to convince Faith to remove the gag and another two weeks of hiking before he convinced her to untie him. Even then, the powerful woman kept a leash on him. A literal leash. It was humiliating and as the days went on he became increasingly worried about the waxing of the moon.

Now, after what seemed like weeks of travel by foot and by goat cart, they had finally arrived at this luxurious temple that seemed to be something out of a fantasy adventure novel. This was especially amusing to Faith.

"Ha! You're a wizard and a werewolf!"

"Yeah, so?" Remus asked.

"And you're complaining about something looking fantastical?" Faith asked, her smirk threatening to burst into full blown laughter. He paused to think about it before sighing.

"Yes, I suppose you're right, but it just looks so..." he trailed off, attempting to find the right adjective.

"Awesome."

Remus turned to look at the man who seemed to have come out of his meditation. Remus just looked at the man totally confused.

"Awesome," the man repeated with a little nod. Remus shrugged in lack of understanding. "The word you were looking for."

"Not quite," Remus objected.

"Yes," Oz corrected with a nod. "Yes, it was."

And that was how Oz met Remus.

* * *

It wasn't until after much eating and drinking and chilling (and Oz had become something of a master at chilling) that Remus got to confront Oz over the whole lycanthropic elephant in the room.

"You are a werewolf," Oz said calmly. Although Remus had noticed that Oz was pretty much always calm.

"I know," bemoaned the former Hogwarts professor.

"_You_ are a werewolf," Oz said, this time with emphasis and a slight squinting of his left eye. Remus twitched a little.

"I know, that's why Faith kidnapped me and took me here," Remus grumbled. "I don't even know how we made it through customs."

"You _are_ a werewolf," Oz said for a third time.

"I KNOW!" Remus bellowed, the force of his voice waking baby Kelden in the next room.

"You know," Oz said with an airy, priestly tone, "but you do not understand."

"Of course I understand! I was bitten! I was a kid!"

"You must understand," Oz replied as if he hadn't even spoken.

"Understand what?" he demanded.

"That you are a werewolf," Oz replied.

Remus let loose a growl of frustration and threw his hands up in the air.

Oz looked at Faith's new boy toy with an appraising eye.

'Dude seriously needs to chill,' Oz thought to himself. 'I will have to train him as I was trained.'

* * *

Severus Snape was not a sociable person. If child dictionaries had the word 'misanthrope' in them, Severus Snape's face would be the picture next to it. He could have just brewed potions, but no, he _had_ to try and make something more of himself. He just _had_ to show how much better he was than James Potter and his three little hell-spawned friends. Unfortunately, due to his past life choices, he was not allowed to simple vanish into his brewing room to bottle fame and put stoppers in death now that time had moved on.

No, both his allegiances forced him to make social appearances on a regular basis. Dumbledore's side was easier, just a few staff meetings, parent teacher discussions and some Order meetings based on Albus' candy of the month. It was the other side that was the problem.

Severus Snape fully acknowledged that he had made bad choices in the past. Being a Death Eater had not ended with Voldemort's demise at the scarring of young Harry Potter. In fact, if anything, being a member of a club that was no longer active had actually increased the number of social events he was forced to attend as the original members grew older. Nostalgia made them forget how many crucio spells their former master had tossed out on whims, how many people had been killed by his wand for presumed incompetence or betrayal.

Now, more than ten years later, Severus Snape was attending a gathering of former Death Eaters who had been "under the Imperius Curse" during the years of Voldemort's reign. These were wealthy and powerful people, people who, if angered or publicly insulted, could make Severus Snape's life very difficult. It was one thing to receive an invite to a home for a casual dinner and have to decline due to delicate potions in the cauldron, it was something else entirely for him to skip a larger gathering of several families. And so, this was how Severus Snape found himself sitting across from Daphne Greengrass, a mediocre, if Slytherin, potion brewer, and next to the most terrifying person in the world.

This was not Bellatrix LaStrange.

This was not Voldemort reborn.

This was not Albus Dumbledore after too many Lemon Sherbert Drops, or LSD as the Headmaster liked to call them.

No, Severus Snape was sitting next to the frightening, the terrifying, the dangerous, direful, dreaded, and desperate Narcissa Malfoy. Not just a desperate Narcissa Malfoy, but a desperate Narcissa Malfoy who hadn't had sex in almost 15 years. Not since the week that Draco was conceived.

It was a spot he feared frequently over the years, a spot Lucius had assigned him at many such gathering. It was not well know, but the only person Severus Snape hated more than James Potter (though there were many who came close), was Lucius Malfoy. Because _Lucius_ Malfoy always made him sit next to _Narcissa_ Malfoy.

"And what do you think about that, Severus?" Lucius asked him, turning everyone's attention to the potions master. He knew all their faces, having either taught them or worked along side them under the Dark Lord.

"You have brought me to the seat of Death Eaters' throne," said Snape surprised inwardly that the words his mouth issued were not the words he had meant to speak, though his body gave no such clue to his discomfort. "To this magical world where all must pay homage to magic...magic..."

He shot a fearful glance at Narcissa, who looked like she was about to strike.

"You have come here, for one purpose, and one alone," Snape said. "I first heard you speak, I have needed to change things, to brew things, for my magic... my magic..."

"Severus? What does that mean?" Lucius asked, quite confused as to the meaning behind his friend's words. "I don't understand what this has to do with Draco wanting to be a dentist."  
Severus Snape opened his mouth to reply and then the worst thing possible happened.

Completely and utterly against his own will, Severus Snape began to sing as the sound of Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Music of the Night" sprung up all around them.

_Cauldrons boiling, no silly wand waving,_

_Potions prompt, incite imagination_

_Done with my pretenses, stripped are your defenses_

_Helpless to resist my brewer's might_

_For I now brew the potions for the Light!_

Snape's eyes went wide as he realized what he'd just said in front of a whole group of Death Eaters, but found himself unable to stop himself or the music that sprung up from nowhere to accompany him.

Always quick to fix his mistakes when his life was on the line, the potions master enlarged his portable potions set and began brewing even as everyone was dancing in time to his song.

_Taste it, smell it, unkindly unforgiving_

_Blending, stirring – tumultuous in ending_

_Hearing is believing_

_Though I've been deceiving, _

_And become Dumbledore's black knight,_

_For I have changed my allegiance to the Light!_

Snape danced as his ladle made a precise one quarter turn from south to east and then from north to west. He glanced at everyone in the room and captured their attention completely. To their horror, the Notts started humming a backup.

_Cover your ears, for your ears can only hear the truth_

_And the truth isn't what you ought to hear_

_We of the dark make it easy to pretend._

_Forget all this and think we just drank beer._

He pulled Narcissa to his chest and spun around the room as couples paired off, all the while singing perfectly in key.

_Forget that I brew potions for the Light._

They spun around and bent down into a dip as he sprinkled the next ingredient into the bubbling cauldron.

_Chopping, mincing, _

_Ingredient preparation _

_Stir it, blend it - use proper incantations _

_This will close your mind, _

_Let your memories rewind _

_Against my potions you all know you cannot fight _

_For I now brew the potions for the Light! _

Pulling out his wand, he and Narcissa spun as he flicked the tip, conjuring vial after vial.

_Close your eyes, start a journey _

_To a Brave New World _

_Dismiss my words _

_Since Voldemort is dead_

_Let my brews take you where you ought to be _

He showed his amazing lung capacity as he stretched out the final word before leaning in close to whisper in Narcissa's ear.

_Remember only what **I** want you to see_

Snape flicked his wand and the cauldron was removed from the heat. He then dipped and allowed Narcissa to fall into a perfect split at his feet before he spun her around, lifting her up over his head and spinning her around and around until the potion had cooled just enough.

_Wafting, breathing, sweet intoxication _

_Trust me, Trust me, _

_Lose your inhibitions_

Narcissa danced around him, her arms never leaving his body as the man diligently poured the Lethe potion into the conjured vials. Together they spun around the room and passed the vials to the other party goers.

_Let my brew begin, _

_Let my magic take you in, _

_To the Lethe potion I have brewed this night _

_With the power of the potions of the Light!_

Every party goer save for three downed the potion in one go, tossing the now empty vials into the fireplace.

_You must all forget my words this night _

_Forget that I brew potions for the Light!_

* * *

In Tibet, Remus Lupin looked up and cocked his head, his attempt at meditation a temporary failure.

"What?" Oz asked.

"There was a great disturbance in the magic," Remus said. "As if someone thinks the Marauders played a prank, and screamed out in anger." He paused a bit. "Which is odd because I'm pretty sure we haven't done anything like that in a while. Though it could be Padfoot's fault, I suppose."

"Huh..." Oz said before whacking Remus on the head with a fan. "Get back to meditating."

* * *

In London, Albus Dumbledore, Amelia Bones, Amos Diggory, Daedalus Diggle and several other members of Order related families had joined together to deal with a particular problem.

"We have an issue with Cornelius dealing more and more with Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore explained. "I have tried repeatedly to have him put pressure on the man or even to press charges for endangering the students, but still nothing seems to be getting done."

"I agree," Amelia Bones said. "What you said about the Chamber should have been enough to at least prompt an investigation, something I am quite willing to oversee personally, however, when I spoke to Fudge about it, he said 'Oh I looked into that and I'm quite satisfied nothing went wrong.' The man is only concerned with his appearance!"

"And he put my good friend Hagrid in Azkaban! Why?" Daedalus Diggle protested, his top hat almost shaking off his head.

"According to what I heard, he needed to be seen 'doing something'" sneered an irate Amos Diggory. "We all have children, grandchildren and friends in that school. And then the madman allowed those monsters around our children. How many close calls did we have? They took to the pitch when my son was on the field!"

"Yes my friends," Albus said as the inexplicable Sound of Music started up. "_He adds a fee_,"

"_He nags at me_," Amelia

"_He hauls Umbridge everywhere_," Daedalus sang.

"_He waltzes into Malfoy's court_," Amos continued. "_And doesn't even care_."

"_And underneath his robes, he wears golden underwear,_" Albus sang.

"_I even heard him laughing with McNair_," Amelia drawled out.

As one they took a breath and stood up.

"_He's always late for Court,_" Diggle spat, "_except on Malfoy's reel._"  
"_He's always late for everything,_" Amelia sang. "_Except for every meal._"  
"_I hate to have to say it,_" Albus began, "_But I very firmly feel, Cornelius' not an asset to the Ministry!_"  
"_I can't find or say a word in his behalf_," Amos Diggory groused. "_The idea of it makes me laugh!_"  
Then all of a sudden they walked into rows and stood up, hands clasped before them, everyone present humming along.

_How do you solve a problem like Cornelius?  
How do you find the way to pin him down?  
How do you find a word that means Cornelius?  
A blast ended skrewt! A grand piece of shit! A dunce!_**  
**

They looked at each other in horror as they realized their inability to cease singing. As one they started to dance around the room, using wands to flick furniture out of the way.

_Many a thing you know you'd like to tell him  
Many a thing he has now wrought.  
But how do you make him stay,  
And listen to all you say,  
How do you do so without gold in hand?_

Albus scowled deeply as he set a hand on Amelia's shoulder.

_Oh, how do you solve a problem like Cornelius?  
And should we do it with our wands in hand?_

As one they summoned their chairs back and sat down as the music died and they attempted to find out the next possible solution to their problem.

Then the door burst open and a panicking Severus Snape ran in. He slammed the door behind him, hit it with a door locking charm, then conjured up boards that he haphazardly nailed over the windows.

"Um..." Amos Diggory started, before pausing as they watched a frantic, frazzled Severus Snape charm the curtains black.

"I can be safe here!" Snape declared. "They'll never find me! BWAHAHAHAHA!"

"_Sev-er-us_," Albus Dumbledore said like a chastising father. "You're cackling madly."

"Two portkeys, seven apparation jumps, two stretches on the muggle bus and a taxi," Snape continued, his manic look suggesting he'd never even noticed Dumbledore said anything. He backed up against the wall and glanced back and forth as if trying to see where his attacker would strike from.

"Seev~y," a dulcet voice called from the hallway. "_Every step you take, every move you make, every vow you take, I'll be stalking you._"

"SHE'S FOUND ME!"

"Is he on the run from the law?" Amelia Bones asked pointedly.

"No, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "Just the Police."

"_Can't you see? He belongs to me_," the voice continued to sing from the hallway.

"The law?" Severus sputtered in fear, shaking his head as only someone in dread terror could. "No, the law can't save me." He ran over and grabbed Dumbledore by the lapels. "You need me! I'm too valuable for you to lose me to madness! You've got to get me out of here!"

_Every move you make  
Every vow you break  
Every smile you fake  
Every claim you stake  
I'll be stalking you ._

"Severus, my boy," Albus said. "You don't need to run from Mrs. Malfoy. I'm sure if you just explain the situation to her calmly-"

"Lay off of him, you old hag!" a girl's voice called out. "He's _mine_!"

"Oh-hoho-ho! The little Greengrass baby wants to come out to play in the big leagues, does she?" Narcissa taunted. "Please. You're not woman enough for a man like my _Seev~y_. Go back to your crib and try again in a few years!"

Snape shivered like he'd just walked outside naked in Fairbanks, Alaska in January. He shook his head, shot a glare at the Headmaster, and apparated away.

* * *

Fred and George Weasley looked on in absolute horror. They had seen strange and unusual things in their lives. There had been flying cars. There had been larger than generally acceptable spiders. There had been magic maps and magic castles.

But nothing could prepare them for the horror they witnessed today.

Percy, Ron and Arthur had wisely fled when the inexplicable beat started up, but the Twins had stayed, intrigued by the hypnotic sounds that seemed to have no source. It was not until they witnessed their mother transfigure her and their sister's clothes into a wild array of corsets, neon colored hair extensions, thick black leather boots and obscure skirts that more closely resembled belts that the horror began.

Both Weasley women began to dance to the hypnotic beat in a rhythmic, a sudden gigantic industrial fan that appeared behind them periodically shining light and projecting shadows spinning in time. Their arms moved in geometric shapes and their legs moved in time. Beams of light reflected off the goggles perched on their foreheads as they gyrated around the Burrow.

Molly and Ginny had been transformed into Cyber Goth Dance Queens.

"I cannot unsee what I have seen," the twins said in perfect monotone.

Together they shivered.

* * *

In their hotel room, Harry stood up and stumbled to the door to answer the incessant pounding from the other side. He peeped through the eyehole only to flinch back in shock.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked from under her pillow.

"It's Snape."

Suddenly Hermione was entirely awake.

"_WHAT_?"

"And he looks ancy," Harry extrapolated.

"Bloody hell Potter! Let me in!" the man growled like a cornered dog. Reluctantly Harry unlatched the chain lock. No sooner was it free did Snape shove it open with the strength of a man several times his size and rush into the room. He did not even appear to notice Hermione staring blankly at him as he flicked his wand, hauling the bed into the air as he fell into a roll. The bed lost it's momentary aversion to gravity and fell to the floor with a great thump.

On the hotel floor below them an elderly couple glared at the ceiling.

"Damn newlyweds," the wife grumbled as the ceiling shook and creaked as the bed moved.

"Professor Snape, what are you doing here?"

"I'm _not_ here; you _never_ saw me," hissed Snape from under the bed.

"But we _did_ see you," Hermione pointed out, bending over to look at the man.

"I don't know," Harry said. "This seems like something from a nightmare."

"This is what you do, isn't it Potter? Save those who need saving? Well, shut up and do it!" Snape snapped. Reluctantly, Harry crawled back into bed with Hermione. It was quite clear that neither one could sleep with their new roommate and they watched the moon sink into the horizon.

"You know what, Hermione?" Harry said.

"What?"

"Well, I never understood being afraid of the monsters under the bed when I was little," Harry admitted. "But I think I do now."

As they sat there, the covers up around their chins, a quick tapping of the low keys of the piano started up, a quick dun-dun-dun-dun with the occasional tap of a snare drum as a bit of a Rocky Horror Show song started up.

Unable to help herself, Hermione started to sing.

_In the velvet darkness of the blackest night  
Lurking here, there's a potioneer  
Right where we're trying to get some sleep._

"_There's a Snape,_" Hermione and Harry sang before the door opened up and the rest of their family poked their heads in and sang along, "_hiding underneath their bed._"  
"_There's a Sna-a-a-a-ape,_" Hermione sang.

"_-That came tumbling from the fireplace_," everyone else finished.  
"_There's a Snape-_" Harry and Hermione sang, holding the covers up to their necks, "-_A Snape! underneath our French holiday queen sized bed._"

Severus Snape's silky tenor issued forth from beneath the queen sized bed.

_The great darkness comes no matter how I try to stop it,  
Go Malfoy go, keep Narcissa from interfering  
with my life, with my li-i-i-iiiiiiife._

"_There's a Snape,_" Hermione and Harry sang as they marveled at Snape being able to sing like that, "_hiding underneath our bed._"  
"_There's a Sna-a-a-a-ape,_" Hermione sang, still not sure how they had burst into song.

"_-That came tumbling from the fireplace_," everyone else finished.  
"_There's a Snape-_" Harry and Hermione sang, holding the covers up to their necks, "-_A Snape! And he's disturbing in so very many ways._"

When the music faded away, Xander, still standing in the doorway of Hermione and Harry's room with the rest of the girl's family, turned to Dawn and Buffy.

"Sweet?" he asked.

Buffy nodded. "Sweet."

"You know that's not really his name," Dawn reminded him.

"Yep, but I'm sure as hell not going to call him Sweetie like he wants," Xander replied.

Buffy nodded. "Okay, I'll go call the lawyers, then."

* * *

Deep in the dilapidated mansion of the Riddle family, Wormtail bowed before the homunculus that housed his master and knelt before him. His dread lord might have resembled a reanimated partially masticated fetus, but was still powerful enough to cow the rat into obeisance.

"Oh master, I do hope this summoning has worked," Peter Pettigrew simpered.

"Well, so long as you got the incantation right, everything should be fine," the creature replied.

"I did everything as you requested, Master," the rat replied. "But I cannot help but worry."  
"Worry? Why should you be worried?" Voldemort asked as a baseline started to pick up.

Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum! Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum! Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum! Bum, bum, bum, ba-da-dum!

"Well, Master," Pettigrew replied as he swallowed nervously.

"_I got chills; _

_They're multiplying _

_And I'm losing control _

_'Cause the Curses you're supplying, _

_they're crucifying!_" Pettigrew sang as he suffered under his master's spell.

"_You better shape up,_" Voldemort sang, "'_Cause I need a pawn, and I've settled for you._" It pointed its wand at the animagus and scowled. "_You better shape up; you better understand, To my goal I must be true._"

"_Nothing left,_" Pettigrew balled. "_Nothing left for me to do_"  
Peter picked up his master and spun around the abandoned mansion, singing at the top of his lungs. "_You're the one that I fear."  
"Oo-oo-oo, Master,  
The one that I fear,  
Oo-oo-oo, Master  
The one that I fear,  
Oo-oo-oo, can't secede,  
Oh, no indeed."_

Voldemort scowled and rose up, perched on Nagini's monsterous head.  
_"Last decade,  
Of dereliction  
Have left me none too pleased.  
Better take my direction  
Or you'll be diseased."_

Peter cowered before his less than impressive master and sang down to the floor.  
_"I better shape up  
'Cause you need a pawn."  
"I need a pawn," _Voldemort agreed.  
_"Who can bring you back alive.  
"I better shape up  
If I'm gonna prove,"  
"You better prove"_ Nagini hissed._  
"That my choice was justified."_  
_"Are you sure?"_ sang Voldemort with a suspicious look on his face.  
Pettigrew paled as his eyes grew large. "_Yes I'm sure down deep inside."  
_

_ "You're the one that I fear."  
"Oo-oo-oo, Master,  
You are the one I fear,  
Oo-oo-oo, Master  
You are the one I fear,  
Oo-oo-oo, just can't secede,  
Oh, no indeed."_

"Wormtail?" Voldemort hissed darkly.

"Yes, Master?" his minion simpered.

"You didn't specify targets for the demon when you summoned it, did you?" the creature which resembled an undead lovechild of a leprechaun and a Frankenstein's monster with microphasia.

"Um..."

"I'm going to take that as a 'no,'" Voldemort declared. "_Crucio_."

Wormtail's subsequent screams echoed throughout the valley of Little Hangleton.

As the day continued on, more and more wizards and witches in Britain were infected with the urge to dance and sing. Not only that, people were actually much better than normal.

_"I finally fixed that seeeeeeeam!" _Madame Malkin sang gloriously as she held up a mended set of robes to the sky as her Diagon Alley back up danced around her.

In Hogsmeade, however, things were not so innocuous.

Fourteen year old Seamus Finnegan was visiting the Scottish magical village for their Harvest Fair and had spotted some of his schoolmates.

"Bones! Abbot!" he called out with a wave to the Hufflepuffs.

"Finnegan, how's your summer been?" Hannah Abbot said with a kindly smile. They weren't close, or even on first name basis, but they were still

"Not bad," Seamus said, glancing at the girls' growing chests. "It's been a bust, I mean a blast. How about you?"

"Pretty good," Hannah replied. "Sue and I were just out for some tea, but the breeze is a bit too brisk to have it outside."

"Yes, I suppose it is a tit bit nippley, isn't it?" Seamus commented, not making consistent eye contact.

"Are you okay?" Susan asked the boy, giving him an odd look.

"Yes, it just that-

_Down at a Hogsmeade fair one morning I was there  
When I heard Sue's jumper shouting over her underwear, _

_I've got a lovely pair of Hufflepuffs,  
Here they are a bouncing to and fro,  
Sue's got big ones, I swear as big as your head"  
"Give them a twist a flick of the wrist,_" Seamus sang as his hands moved without his will.  
"_And that was when I fled,_" he called out over his shoulder as Susan Bones' face turned the same shade as her hair. Hannah Abbot, Nymphadora Tonks (who was temporarily reassigned for Fair security), and a number of other current and former Badgers saw this and soon had their wands out.

"_Oh, I'm fleeing an angry bunch of Hufflepuffs  
Attempting to hex to and fro."_

He was joined by his housemate, who was similarly ducking under beams of light.  
"_With me flees Dean, Crap that curse was green!  
Screaming Dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch_

_Dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch  
Dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch  
Roll a bit and bounce, roll a bit and bounce  
Screaming dodge a curse and go hide on the pitch."_

When they finally got to the Quidditch stands, they lurked in the shadows, hiding from their pursuers who had fanned out to look for their prey.

_Sue's got a lovely pair of Hufflepuffs _

"_They're lovely,_" Dean agreed.  
_There they are a bouncing too and fro _

"_One, two, three, four,_" Dean said, counting the wands targeting them.  
_There's big ones, small ones, Tonks' are as big as she wants_

"-_And bigger_," Dean was quick to point out.  
_Her wand did twist, a flick of the wrist  
And filled me full of dread,"_ Seamus sang as his singing gave away his hiding spot and the curses started flying again.

_I'm __still__ fleeing an angry mob of Hufflepuffs  
I swear it really is not my fault!_  
_ With me stands me mate, we're about to meet our fate  
Singing really hope I don't die on the pitch _

_"All together now,"_ Dean called out.  
_Really hope I don't die on the pitch _

_"Harmony,"_ Dean called out.  
_Really hope I don't die on the pitch_  
_ Really hope I don't, Really hope I don't  
Singing really hope I don't die on the pitch_

Standing back to back within a circle of wands pointed at their necks, both boys held up their hands in defeat.

"You don't think we could talk this over, do you?" Dean asked.

The look on Susan's face suggested that would not be a likely outcome.

* * *

"What is up with Snape?" Harry asked Padfoot. The dog glanced both ways to see if anyone else was around and transformed into the shaggy, unkempt form of his godfather.

"Well, that's a story filled with tragedy, horror, and coiffed hair," Sirius told Harry and Hermione. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Both teens nodded seriously.

"Okay, but I warned you," Sirius said as he pulled out a microphone. "_Long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me cry._"

"Hey! You're just singing acapella! You're not hit by the spell!" Hermione pointed out as no music popped up.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a horrible singing voice?" Harry asked his godfather. "I don't mean to offend, but that's _really_ bad."

Sirius tossed him the microphone and shrugged. "Yeah, I could never really sing."

"And I'm not sure I want to hear American Pie about Snape," Hermione put in. "That ruins a pretty good song."

"Okay, fine," Sirius said as piano keys started up in the background before turning into a disco drum beat. "_At first I was afraid, I was petrified._"

"I _saw_ you use your wand," Hermione protested. "No, Gloria either!"

"Okay, fine," Sirius said, flicking his wand and canceling the background music. "I was feeling left out of all the prank song and dance."

"That song and dance can make them sing and dance so much they spontaneously combust," Hermione pointed out, having heard the story of the dancing demon (and the Scooby Gang's greatest hits) in the past.

"Okay, okay," Sirius said, leaning against the wall. He moved his shoulders a bit to get settled in. "_This is the story, about a boy named Snivvy,_" he paused, waiting for some objection from Hermione.

"Go on," she said waving for him to continue. "You can't possibly make the Brady Bunch song worse than it already is."

"_Who was in love with a very lovely girl," _Sirius continued, much to the surprise of the two teens.  
"_And Pup, you should know that she  
was your mother,  
Back before she had you."_

Harry blanched as he discovered that Snape once had been in love with his mother.

"_Here's the story,  
Of a girl named Lily,  
Who was busy with studies of her own.  
They were best friends,  
From childhood, but then they grew up."_

"_Till the one day when the lady saw this fellow,  
And said 'Snape, you've got a very lovely voice.' _

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that bit of information.  
"_To impress, He  
formed a boy band.  
That's the way he started up the Hob-gob-lins!"  
"The Hobgoblins," _Sirius sang, dancing about the room, shaking his booty in a way that should not be repeated until he got some meat on his bones. _ "The Hobgoblins. But still a crap group cuz it had Snape!"_

"Ignoring the fact that the last few lines don't fit the original Brady Bunch song's meter," Hermione said, "what the _hell_?"

"But wasn't the lead singer of the Hobgoblins that Stubby Boardman guy?" Harry asked, remembering the naked guy wearing the placard that showed up gagged and bound on the front step. He'd looked the guy up in "History of Magic" after the guy's name stuck in his head.

"He was the second lead singer who took over when Snape left," Sirius explained. "Fame was too big for Snivvy, so he turned to potions and stopped coiffing his hair, letting it get greasy again. Even got a nose job."

"Damn, he must have had a really bad surgeon," Hermione commented, thinking of the large hooked schnoz in the middle of Snape's face.

"No, actually he got exactly what he was looking for," Sirius replied. "Honestly, it cut down the fangirls to pretty much just my cousin and a few other hangers on. So long as he didn't sing, most people didn't recognize him. I think this spell is the first time he's sung anything since he left the band."

"Your cousin...?" Harry and Hermione asked.

"Narcissa Black," Sirius explained.

"Draco Malfoy's mother?" Harry and Hermione screeched in horror.

"Well, not Draco _Malfoy_," Sirius said with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the evilly grinning animagus.

"Haven't you noticed how Draco doesn't really look like Lucius?" Sirius asked.

"Well, they've both got blond hair," Hermione pointed out.

"But so does my cousin," Sirius pointed out.

"So what are you saying?" Harry asked suspiciously. Realization apparently came to Hermione as she turned decidedly green.

"Draco combs his hair back, and I happen to know that Eileen Prince, Snape's mum, was as blonde as all the Prince family," Sirius replied. "And for a random kid, Snape is very overprotective of Draky-waky, isn't it?"

"You can't be serious!" Harry exclaimed as he suddenly realized what was going on.

"Are you really going to give me an opening like that?" Sirius asked. "But yes, as I'm sure you've now guessed, there is no Draco _Malfoy_, but there is a Draco _Snape_."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Hermione said, holding a hand over her mouth.

"That's what I said," Sirius replied. He turned to Harry and shrugged. "Your dad _was_ sick."

"What about my mum?" Harry asked, mentally blocking out the idea that Snape ever actually had sex and replacing the information with the assumption that it was a spell accident.

"Well, she said 'Oh Severus, I'm sure you'll be able to get a girlfriend now,'" Sirius answered in a falsetto to imitate Lily Evans. "Friendzone: population Snape."

"No, about Snape getting your cousin pregnant," Harry clarified.

"Your mum and Snivvy weren't really talking at that point, since it was the height of the war and they were on opposite sides and all that," Sirius replied. He paused and looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Come to think of it, I don't know that we ever told her. She _did_ have all his albums though."

"So why's your cousin a Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

"Wandpoint wedding," Sirius said. "Couldn't let 'Society' know that the Black Family's precious pureblood princess got knocked up by a halfblood, nope. So Narcissa was married off to some Death Eater like a business arrangement: Malfoy gets his 'heir' and the Blacks don't loose face."

"So, to sum this all up," Harry said, glancing back at their bedroom where Snape was hiding under the bed. "Are you saying that Snape was some sort of magical Justin Bieber?"

"I would have said David Cassidy, but sure, that works too," Sirius replied.

"Wow," Harry said. "And I was sure I couldn't hate Snape more."

* * *

**Author's Blatherings and Disclaimers:** Sorry this took so long to write. It took some time to find the right songs and to rewrite them to fit.

I don't own "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera (Original Cast), Andrew Lloyd Webber does. I don't own "Maria" from Sound of Music. I don't own "Every Breath You Take," 'cuz that's the Police. I don't own Cyber Goth Dance Queens, though I know a few (more like cyber goth dance countesses, since they're not famous but quite talented). I don't own "Over At the Frankenstein Place" from Rocky Horror. I most certainly don't own "You're the One that I want" from Grease. As much as I like the song, I don't own "I've Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts." And I don't own "American Pie," "I will Survive" or "the Brady Bunch theme."

There. *Whew*

Hopefully I'll have the next one ready much sooner. I already have some of the songs chosen. For example, Cornelius Fudge is the very model of a modern magic minister.

Thanks to the Caer Azkaban Yahoo group for help and advice as well as reviewing the unfinished article.


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